The Truth
by xxWfCPxx
Summary: Set after book two 'The Time Twister'. Charlie is too chirpy and it's making Manfred moody. Nothing good can come of this, can it? ... Ahem, attention please: this is a SLASH fic with man-on-boy action. But this does not mean mindless smut. Enjoy! xxx
1. Why Are You Happy?

Hello there dear readers,

**title: **The Truth  
**rating:** Teen. Although I shall change this if it escalates. It'll be high teen though, nearing M.  
**summary:** After book 2 'The Time Twister'. Charlie is too chirpy and Manfred is moody because of it. Oh dear, where could this lead?  
**warnings:** Some sexual content and possibly some harsh language. THIS IS A SLASH FICTION. THERE IS MAN ON MAN ACTION. You have been forewarned.  
**author's notes:** I really enjoyed reading this series years ago and now that important exams are looming I'm getting drawn back into them (whoops!). When I first read them I decided I liked the Manfred/Charlie pairing, but there was pretty much no fiction out there for them! Sad, huh? Well anyway I didn't get around to writing about them then, but now I've got some inspiration and the need to escape from the real world for a bit. So voila! Thus this fiction was given first life.

Enjoy!

* * *

Why Are You Happy?

* * *

The Kings room felt more pleasant that it had for a long time. Not only was Zelda still ill (thanks to Emma) but Tancred was back, filling the empty void, and the knowledge that they had saved Henry from an awful fate was uplifting the spirits of all those whom Charlie counted as 'good' in the room. The homework seemed much easier than usual too.

As he packed up his things though Charlie could feel two surly obsidian eyes fixed on him with an unnerving intensity. He made sure he didn't look at the head boy as he turned to leave. Unfortunately this did not help.

'Charlie Bone. Wait.' It was an order and Charlie reluctantly paused, though he refused to turn around and face his cousin. He heard Manfred slide out of his chair and quickly pack up his books as the other children filed out of the room, several shooting Charlie sympathetic or confused glances.

When they were the only two in the room Manfred added, 'I want to talk to you. Look at me.'

Charlie swivelled to face the head boy, although he made sure not to look into his eyes. Even though he could play mind games too he didn't enjoy it, and Manfred's eyes could be scary. Manfred ignored this patent avoidance for now.

Instead he asked bluntly; 'Why are you so happy?'

Charlie blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected that. Whilst he was still searching for an answer the older boy moved forward to stand intimidatingly close. Charlie kept his eyes averted to the side, staring at the table, as Manfred continued; 'You have no reason to be happy. Henry has gone. He stared into the time twister, and now he's never coming back. _I'm_ the one who should be happy, not you!' Manfred sounded frustrated, perhaps even angry, and Charlie bit down an insolent reply: it wouldn't be a good idea to provoke Manfred when he was like this. 'So why are you happy?' Manfred demanded again.

Charlie's mind raced, trying to come up with a plausable answer. 'My uncle is much better now,' he replied, but his tone lacked proper conviction. For a second Manfred considered the answer, but when he saw that Charlie was nervous he scoffed.

'You're lying.'

Manfred roughly pushed Charlie back against the table, moving in very close so that Charlie couldn't escape. Swallowing thickly, Charlie stared desperately at the door in vain hope.

'No one is coming, Charlie,' Manfred snapped, noticing the gaze. 'And you're not leaving until you tell me the truth.'

'Well what if I don't?' Charlie retorted, trapped. 'Are you going to stay here all night?'

'I will if I have to,' Manfred growled. 'Look at me.'

When Charlie ignored the last three words Manfred said something nasty under his breath and gripped the younger boy's chin with vice-like fingers, forcing his face up. Charlie instinctively closed his eyes.

'_Look at me!_' Manfred hissed and, surprised at himself, Charlie obeyed. Black. Really deep black. They were the kind of eyes you could lose yourself in, and for half a second Charlie was sorely tempted to. Then he breathed in sharply and stopped those kinds of thoughts. They were dangerous.

'Now tell me the truth, Charlie,' Manfred murmured, his tone much softer. 'Tell me why you're so happy today.' The nice persona was more terrifying than Manfred's usual sour exterior, and it must have shown because Manfred chuckled and brought a hand up to brush his fingers against Charlie's cheek. Shocked, Charlie jerked away from the touch and Manfred's amusement grew.

'Oh? Don't you like this?' Manfred grinned, grabbing Charlie's right shoulder to keep him in place this time as he caressed the younger boy's cheek again. The fingers ghosted down to Charlie's neck as he craned his face away from the fingers, squirming at the touch. Manfred didn't seem to care anymore that Charlie wasn't looking at him.

'Stop it,' Charlie protested, uncomfortable.

'Hm?' The head boy's reply was absent-minded as he slipped his fingers under the blue cloak and ran them over the warm skin just below Charlie's neck.

'I said stop it!' Charlie gasped, feeling a bit sick. Manfred's fingers were very cold on his skin and the gentleness was unnatural. The icy digits fell still at the base of Charlie's neck.

'OK. I will if you tell me why you're happy.'

'I-' Charlie started helplessly. 'I don't know why I'm happy. I just am. Is that a crime?'

Manfred's face turned sour again and his fingers pressed against Charlie's young skin viciously. 'Yes it is,' he snapped irrationally. Then, taking a calming breath, he leant down so that his lips were by Charlie's left ear. 'I'm losing patience,' he confided dangerously. 'If you don'-'

'Charlie?' Olivia's voice was shriller than normal, as if she was worried, and Charlie was extremely relieved to hear her.

Manfred growled lowly, revealing his own feelings at the turn of events. 'Don't think this is over,' he hissed into Charlie's ear before pulling back from him and collecting his books.

Olivia was brushed aside violently as Manfred left the room and Charlie took a deep, shaky breath.

'Are you all right?' Olivia pressed worriedly, scooting over to Charlie and taking his stuff for him. 'What was he bothering you about?'

'Ah-' Charlie muttered and then shook his head. 'Nothing really. I think he was just taking his anger out on me for something. I don't know what.' I mean, asking him why he was happy? That was hardly a valid reason to be annoyed at someone, surely.

Olivia hummed doubtfully but, sensing that Charlie wasn't in the mood to talk about it, wisely remained silent.

...

Lying in bed that night Charlie tried to formulate valid excuses for why he could be happy, so long as they weren't the truth. He knew that even if Manfred had just been taking his anger out on him arbitrarily, now that he had refused to reply the head boy wouldn't let the issue drop. It would only be a matter of time before Manfred found him again and pried an answer out of him.

Eventually Charlie fell asleep.

* * *

End of Chapter One!

I don't know how many chapters there are going to be, sorry. But I hope you have enjoyed reading it so far. I don't like rushing things to make them seem unnatural, so there will be a fair bit of character building/plot manipulation before we get proper action. These chapter are pretty short though, aren't they? Well, they are compared to what I'm used to, so it won't be too long to wait!

Please review!

~WfCP x


	2. Mrs Bloor

Hello there dear readers,

**title: **The Truth  
**author's notes:** This is a rather bitsy chapter.

Enjoy!

* * *

Mrs Bloor

* * *

As Charlie was heading in from the chilly outside, break over, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Unnerved, he looked behind him and saw Manfred approaching. Charlie quickened his pace, but wasn't fast enough to escape.

'Charlie Bone!' Manfred barked, stopping him in his tracks. Defeated, Charlie turned to face the head boy, who stopped a foot in front of him.

'Stay behind again today after you've finished your homework.' Manfred's breath billowed out in misty clouds due to the cold air. 'I don't believe we finished our chat yesterday.'

...

Charlie looked miserable at dinner and Fidelio was worried. 'What's up Charlie? I thought everything was good with Henry.' He spoke the last bit quietly so as not to be overheard.

'It is,' Charlie quickly assured him. 'But Manfred's got it in for me.'

'Hasn't he always?' Fidelio joked and Charlie laughed, conceding the point.

'It's just this time he's being weird about it,' Charlie shrugged when Fidelio pressed on the point of him looking so glum. They were walking towards the hall. Fidelio opened his mouth to ask _how_ he was being weird but then they were inside the hall and talking was forbidden.

Charlie dragged his feet towards the King's room, dreading seeing Manfred again.

Whilst pretending to do his homework Charlie found his mind worrying over ways to escape Manfred. He found himself staring at the Red King and somehow this gave him the peace of mind to come up with an idea.

'Stop daydreaming, Bone,' Manfred snapped and Charlie quickly looked back down at his books.

When it was time to go Emma waited for Charlie but he shook his head at her and motioned towards Manfred with a grimace. She shot him a concerned, sympathetic look which promised questions later, then took off after the others. Almost as soon as she'd left, Manfred was standing next to Charlie, dragging him up from his seat and pushing him against the desk.

'Shall we start where we left off?' Manfred asked rhetorically. Charlie pursed his lips but jolted when he felt cool skin on them. Manfred's fingers were tracing Charlie's mouth. Shocked beyond words Charlie felt his lips part, eyes staring at Manfred dumbly. The older boy chuckled and pulled his hand back. 'That's better,' he explained; 'You looked like you weren't enjoying yourself for a moment there.'

'M-Manfred!' Charlie stuttered, trying to think straight even though his mind was still fuzzy and confused. 'I can tell you why I'm happy!' Charlie blurted, hoping that this would work. He didn't want to spend any more time with the head boy than he had to.

'Oh?' Manfred didn't look as pleased as Charlie had hoped. 'Go on then,' he added dryly, 'Why are you happy?'

'Because of Henry,' Charlie said, looking at the floor to Manfred's right.

'Look at me,' Manfred commanded, but Charlie refused. It would be much harder to lie if he looked at his cousin. 'Oh for the love of the- the _Red King_,' Manfred bit out angrily. 'I'm not going to hypnotise you, am I? I just want to see if you're telling me the truth.'

Charlie couldn't see how he could get out of it so he obediently looked into Manfred's eyes, not wishing to have his chin grabbed like yesterday. He hoped for the best.

'So.' Manfred prompted. 'Henry?'

'You said- You said that Henry had looked into the time twister and been whisked away, right?'

'Yes.' Manfred was tense, Charlie saw. Did he suspect what had really happened?

'Well then that's good, isn't it? You were out to get him and would have done something horrible to him. Now he's gone he's probably somewhere much nicer.'

Manfred narrowed his eyes at the younger boy suspiciously, but couldn't seem to find anything wrong with the story. Somewhat reluctantly Manfred stepped to the side and sat down on Charlie's chair in thought. 'Really? That's why you're happy?'

'Yes,' Charlie said, relief washing over him. It had worked! He glanced at the Red King gratefully, then began to pick up his books.

'Wait,' Manfred said irritably. Charlie's shoulders slumped. Had there been something wrong with his story? 'I think you're lying to me.'

'I'm not!' Charlie protested vehemently. 'Really Manfred - I think Mrs Bloor will take very good care of Henry. She's actually a really nice woma-'

'Stop.' Manfred's tone was so frosty Charlie daren't look at him. Was it because he'd mentioned Manfred's mother? Charlie wished he hadn't now; he knew that his cousin hadn't got on well with his mum. 'You mentioned my mother.'

'I'm sorry,' Charlie gushed, 'I know you weren't very fond of her but-'

'Shut _up_,' Manfred cut him off angrily. 'That's not what I meant. _You mentioned my mother_.'

Charlie cocked his head, confused. He had heard right the first time. Why was Manfred making out that he was stupid?

'Look at me you dolt.'

Charlie hesitated, then glanced at his cousin's stony face.

'I knew you were lying,' Manfred insisted. 'I never mentioned my mother to you before; how do you know that she looked at the time twister too? Who told you?'

Charlie floundered. 'Er- well- I-'

Manfred stood up again and, with a series of well-aimed pushes, he had Charlie backed up against one of the walls. 'You sneaky little rat,' he spat. 'Did you think you could lie to me and get away with it?' When Charlie didn't reply he grabbed his face and forced the younger boy to look at him again. 'Well? Did you?'

'No?' Charlie could hardly form the word because Manfred's fingers were squashing his cheeks up around his mouth, making it hard to speak.

'Then why do it?' The head boy hissed, eyes glinting dangerously. Charlie felt threatened this close to the black abysses.

'I'm s-sorry, Manfred.' Charlie decided it was best to try and calm his cousin down by being deferential towards him.

With a look of disgust Manfred released Charlie's face and then slapped him. Charlie staggered to his right with the force of the blow, cupping his left cheek cautiously. He wondered if it would leave a bruise. Charlie jolted as his stuff landed with a few injured-sounding thumps at his feet.

'You may go,' Manfred dismissed him disdainfully, taking his own stuff and stalking from the room.

With a groan Charlie collected his scattered books and followed a couple of minutes later.

...

'Charlie?' Fidelio asked just before lights-out when Charlie entered. 'You alright? You look awful and your cheek's all red.'

Charlie tried to smile to show he was fine but his cheek protested at the muscle-movement. 'Ow,' said Charlie, putting a hand to his sore cheek. 'Manfred slapped me.'

Fidelio's eyebrows rose. 'Seriously? He can't be allowed to do that!'

'His dad owns the school,' Charlie grimaced, changing into his pyjamas. 'He can do anything.'

'That's awful,' Gabriel voiced sympathetically.

'Why did he slap you?' Billy asked, but just then matron's hand reached around the door and flipped the light switch. Charlie hurried under the covers.

'No more talking!' Matron yelled before slamming the door.

'Why _did_ he slap you?' Fidelio whispered so that only Charlie could hear.

''tell you tomorrow,' Charlie mumbled back sleepily.

* * *

End of Chapter Two!

N'aww poor Charlie.

Hope you enjoyed! Please review, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

~WfCP x


	3. Wake Up, Wretch

Hello there dear readers,

**title: **The Truth  
**author's notes:** Ahh a midnight visit...

Enjoy!

* * *

Wake Up, Wretch

* * *

Crossing the hall to breakfast Charlie was walking sleepily next to Fidelio when suddenly he felt a weight shove into him and he bumped his cheek into Fidelio on his way down to the hard floor.

'Ouch,' Charlie groaned quietly, lifting a hand gingerly to his bruised cheek. A small shadow fell over him and beside him he felt Fidelio tense.

'Why did you walk into Asa?' Billy demanded.

'I-' Charlie started to protest, staring up at Billy in surprise. It was patent to everybody that it had been the other way around, wasn't it? 'I didn't-'

'No talking,' Manfred reminded him icily, suddenly appearing beside Billy. 'Detention, Bone.'

'But-' Charlie started, indignation beginning to rise.

Manfred gave him one of the coldest looks he had ever seen and it made him swallow his words.

Fidelio quickly helped Charlie up once the head boy and Billy had disappeared, and they hurried into the blue canteen.

'I can't believe it!' Charlie almost exploded once they were allowed to talk. He tried to explain his outrage but found that he was left nearly speechless. 'It's so unfair! Asa clearly shoved _me_! And why didn't Billy get detention? He was talking too!'

'Billy won the trophy,' Fidelio reminded him lowly and Charlie shut his mouth and glowered instead. 'I agree though - it _is_ unfair. It was set up so that Manfred could give you detention.'

Seeing Billy, Charlie glared at him. 'I hate how Billy always does what Manfred tells him to.'

...

That evening in the King's room Charlie kept his head well down and scratched his answers on to his book angrily. But at least Manfred had not yet asked him to stay behind, and when the end bell rang he was packed up and ready to go.

Before Manfred had a chance to call after him Charlie had run out of the room.

This routine continued for the next two days and whilst it cheered Charlie that he hadn't been detained in a room alone with Manfred for three nights in a row it did make him dread Saturday because he suspected that his cousin was planning something.

All of his friends had been told that Manfred wanted to know 'why Charlie was happy' and all agreed that this was stupid, but none had any sensible ideas as to how to dodge the question. Or, at least, none that Charlie hadn't already tried.

'I'll try and get detention with you,' Olivia promised when Charlie confessed his fear that Manfred was plotting something to his friend Friday night. 'But I don't have much time in which to do that…'

...

After packing his bag Fidelio led Charlie down to the blue cloakroom where he winked at him and then moved into the crowded hall, heading for the door. Watching and waiting, Charlie hoped that Olivia's plan would work. He was half-scared that Manfred would let her go regardless just so he could have Charlie by himself in detention.

'_FINALLY_!' Olivia exclaimed once she was near the door. 'THIS HAS BEEN SUCH A LONG WEEK!'

In the silence of the hall Olivia's voice was very, very loud. The children around her were staring at her as if she had suddenly contracted the plague and both Manfred and his father had open mouths. Charlie tried very hard not to laugh.

Some children darted for the door, not wanting to be late for the bus, but many lingered to see what would happen.

'WHY ARE YOU ALL SILENT?' Olivia shouted joyfully, clearly enjoying herself. 'AREN'T YOU EXCITED TO BE GOING HOME?'

Dr Bloor glanced at his son, who had now closed his mouth and was giving Olivia a death-glare. But it didn't seem as if Manfred was going to say anything and there were only a few more steps before Olivia would be out of the hall. Charlie began to worry that he really would be alone in detention. But then Manfred's father cleared his throat.

'_**OLIVIA VERTIGO**_,'Dr Bloor boomed in his impressively deep voice. '**NO TALKING IN THE GREAT HALL. **_**DETENTION**_.'

Olivia stopped, mouth open in fake-shock. 'No way!' She gasped, her voice sounding very small after Dr Bloor's. 'I completely forgot.'

'_**NO**_** TALKING!**'

Shoulders hung dejectedly, Olivia turned around with a sigh and shuffled through the crowd, giving Charlie a big grin as she approached. Slowly, the other children began to move again and soon they were rushing to get out before the buses left.

...

'I can't believe you did that!' Charlie laughed, elated at Olivia's success. 'You have such guts!'

'Why thank you,' Olivia mock-bowed, then collapsed giggling. 'Oh did you see Manfred's face? He looked like he was going to explode!'

'Turn everyone to ice, more like,' Charlie grinned.

Olivia sobered a bit. 'He was going to let me go,' she said seriously. 'So you were right. He did want you alone. Be careful Charlie.'

'Well if I stick with you I'll be fine,' Charlie smiled, his cheek having healed a bit now. 'You're so brave!'

'Pssh,' Olivia waved the compliment aside. 'It's called _acting_, silly!'

...

That night Charlie felt much better about his detention. Olivia would make the day fun and this way Manfred's plans had been thwarted. He was just glad Olivia hadn't got into more trouble than she had. Sometimes she went overboard on her distractions.

Charlie woke whilst it was still dark and blearily decided to go back to sleep, but then he heard footsteps and realised that he must have been woken by the door opening. Immediately he was wide awake, but he pretended he was asleep as he watched the dark figure approach. It was soon apparent that it was Manfred, and Charlie stiffened in fear.

'Are you awake?' Manfred hissed quietly, now crouching, and Charlie wondered whether he should reply. Would Manfred try to wake him if he didn't say anything? Would he do something worse?

'Oi. Wake up, wretch,' Manfred demanded lowly, taking Charlie's shoulder and shaking him roughly. Charlie quickly opened his eyes before his cousin tried more violent ways to wake him.

'Manfred?' He ventured sleepily. 'What are you doi-'

'Shut up,' the older boy said irritably, taking Charlie's arm and standing up, dragging Charlie out of bed as he did so.

'Ah-' Charlie gasped as the cold air hit his bare feet. He wasn't given time to put on shoes or a dressing-gown before Manfred pulled him out of the dormitory and down a passage illuminated by a torch held in Manfred's other hand. Billy hadn't said anything although, Charlie thought glumly, he'd probably heard something. Billy would be of no use to him. He wished that Olivia could have slept in his dormitory with him, but then she was a girl…

'Keep up,' Manfred ordered wearily, giving Charlie's arm an impatient tug. Charlie obediently sped his walking up and tried to stop himself from stumbling at the fast pace.

After some minutes had passed Charlie realised that he was being led to the Bloors' personal quarters. Had he been summoned by someone? He'd thought that this was just between Manfred and him, but maybe it was bigger than he'd thought.

The room Manfred led him to was empty of people though and Charlie reconsidered the head boy's motives. Manfred pushed him forward into the room so that Charlie stumbled as the door was locked behind him.

The room was quite big, with a strong black-and-purple colour scheme. There was an all pervading smell of candle-smoke and incense too and the windows were open, letting in a chill breeze. Manfred swished past him to close the windows, then moved over to a small fireplace and attempted to light the logs there. Still unsure as to why he had been brought along, Charlie continued his examination of the room.

In one corner was a bed draped with black sheets, and along the same wall was an oak desk with some old books lying open on it. The wall opposite that one, to Charlie's right, had the fireplace in the middle and a chest of drawers. Along the wall with the door was a bookcase and a long, vertical mirror. Under the window a black sofa had been placed, with a low, long coffee table several feet in front of it in the middle of the room. An armchair sat near the fire and in the far right corner a small stone block with some candles and an interesting assortment of objects could be seen.

Manfred stopped cursing when the tinder finally caught fire. The flames, small at first, soon gave out a warm glow and Charlie found himself drawn to the heat, his bare feet still freezing.

'Is this your room, Manfred?' He guessed, forgetting that he was supposed to be wary of the older boy.

'Yes.' Manfred crossed the room to fetch the tall-backed wooden chair from his desk and set it down near the fire for Charlie to sit on.

'Thank you,' Charlie said in surprise. Why was Manfred being kind? Wasn't he angry at Charlie? After all, the last time they'd been alone together Manfred had slapped him!

The older boy sunk into the leather armchair and closed his eyes as if he'd forgotten about Charlie. This was a bit weird and Charlie considered asking why Manfred had brought him there, but wasn't sure if his cousin was awake or asleep. His chest was rising and falling rhythmically and with his eyes shut he looked almost harmless. Charlie shut his mouth, shrugged, and returned to warming himself by the fire.

* * *

End of Chapter Three!

The next few chapters will not be at all bitsy, because this particular section is quite long.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please review!

~WfCP x


	4. Thrice More, Total Four

Hello there dear readers,

**title: **The Truth  
**author's notes:** Meh.

Enjoy!

* * *

Thrice More, Total Four

* * *

Sometime later, when Charlie was suitably warm, he began to feel restless. Manfred hadn't stirred and he was getting worried that he wouldn't be out in time for breakfast. What would Olivia think when she found him missing?

'Manfred?' Charlie whispered, hoping that the older boy was already awake. Manfred hummed out a tired,

'What, Charlie?' But he didn't open his eyes. Charlie frowned.

'Er, I'm going to miss breakfast if I don't leave soon.'

'You're not going to breakfast,' Manfred informed him sleepily.

After a pause Charlie tried again. 'I'm quite hungry. Could you let me out?' As an afterthought he added, 'Please.'

'Charlie.' Manfred deadpanned, finally opening his eyes and fixing his cousin with a withering gaze. 'You are not going to breakfast.'

Charlie swallowed. 'Um. Why not?'

'Because I'm keeping you here.'

That made Charlie sound like a pet. Or a prisoner. It made him feel very uneasy. 'Erm. For how long?'

'I have a name.'

'How long am I supposed to stay here, Manfred?'

The older boy shrugged. 'How long are you going to take to tell me the truth?'

Charlie suppressed a sigh of frustration. Manfred was still on about the 'happiness' issue? 'That was five days ago!' Charlie complained. 'I'm not happy anymore.'

'That's not the point,' Manfred objected, glaring at Charlie.

'If I'm not allowed to eat, surely you can't eat either?'

In reply Manfred waved the key at him. He was trying to say that he could quite easily leave Charlie in here alone. But, 'You wouldn't,' Charlie pointed out. 'I could destroy your room whilst you were gone.'

Thwarted, Manfred clenched his jaw and glared at the flames. 'Fine,' he announced. 'Then you'll just have to eat with me.'

Well, Charlie thought, at least he wouldn't starve. That was something.

'Why don't you just tell me?' Manfred asked after a long time, not able to understand Charlie's lengthy silence.

'I don't think you'll believe me if I do,' the younger boy replied.

Manfred's eyebrow rose. 'Oh? Something scandalous?'

Charlie shook his head. 'That's just it; you _want_ it to be something scandalous. So when I say something ordinary you're going to dismiss it. And then when I make up something interesting you'll tell me I'm lying.'

'Well try me. What's the boring truth?'

This time Charlie made sure to look into Manfred's eyes before being prompted. He was hungry and wanted to get this over with before he missed breakfast. 'I hadn't heard that Henry had disappeared with the time twister so I thought he was still hiding out somewhere undiscovered. And then Zelda was ill, and you know I don't like her much. Oh and Tancred was back, which is good because it felt sort of wrong without him. So there was a lot of good energy in the King's room. And Olivia had dyed her hair rainbow-coloured, which was funny.' Charlie paused, and felt a bit embarrassed at admitting these things to Manfred. Even if he wasn't telling the whole truth it still felt wrong letting the older boy in on some of the things that had made him cheerful. 'So that's why I was happy that day.'

After a few long seconds Manfred sighed and sat back in his chair. 'You're right,' he shrugged. 'That _was_ boring. And I don't believe you.'

Charlie whimpered in frustration and hunger and crossed his arms over his chest. 'I'll never leave here!' He lamented, but this only made Manfred smile nastily at him. Things weren't going well.

Then Manfred blinked and sat up straighter in his chair, struck by a sudden thought. 'How many times have you lied to me now?' He wondered, counting in his head as he spoke.

Charlie could tell that his cousin's mind was wandering into dangerous territory, although he wasn't sure what Manfred was getting at just yet. He kept quiet.

'Four times, I think,' Manfred decided and Charlie opened his mouth to protest. But Manfred gave him a warning look. 'First you said something about your uncle, then that you didn't know, then that Henry would be better off somewhere else. And just now you gave me a mundane list of absolute drivel.'

'It wasn't-' Charlie started, but was cut off.

'And how many times have I punished you?'

This made Charlie fall quite silent. He was beginning to guess where Manfred was headed with these ponderings and he didn't like it.

'Once, I believe.' Manfred tapped his left cheek and grinned maliciously at his younger cousin. 'Well I suppose that means I am at liberty to punish you thrice more.'

Charlie considered his cheek and whether he could take three more hits to it. Manfred was actually very strong, despite his skinny exterior. 'Please don't,' he said simply, hoping that this honest bravado would work. It didn't.

'Bad behaviour must be punished, Charlie. I can't have you adopting lying as a habit.'

'What do you care? You're not my mother,' Charlie retorted a little desperately. Manfred arched a fine eyebrow.

'Oh Charlie, but wouldn't I be such an irresponsible older cousin if I didn't look out for your fine sense of morality?'

Charlie had never seen Manfred as a particularly responsible cousin anyway, but he refrained from saying so. Instead he shivered - not from the cold - and looked into the flames. Manfred unfolded himself from the armchair and approached, and Charlie winced in anticipation of a slap.

'Silly,' Manfred admonished almost fondly. 'I'm not going to hit you now. That takes all of the suspense out of it.'

'What's the point in suspense?' Charlie wondered sullenly, allowing Manfred to pull him up from the chair in the hope of food. 'The slap will be just as painful with or without the wait.'

'Mm,' the older boy hummed, leading Charlie to the door and unlocking it. 'Yes, but the wait isn't pleasant, is it? It just adds to the horror of the punishment if you're made terrified every time I'm near.'

'Oh,' Charlie said quietly.

'Which looks to be a long time, since you're insisting on being stubbornly tight-lipped!'

Charlie grimaced but didn't reply. He followed Manfred through some dark corridors until he reached familiar space. He was tempted to make a run for it, but Manfred was only a step or so in front of him and Charlie didn't want to risk further punishment if he didn't make it.

Breakfast was over but there was still some left-over porridge in the kitchen, which Manfred re-heated. Charlie took a bowl gratefully and looked on in surprise as Manfred found some sugar and liberally poured it over his own bowl.

'This stuff tastes foul without sugar,' Manfred explained.

'I know,' Charlie replied. 'I eat it quite a lot.' When Manfred didn't offer him sugar he added, 'Er, may I have some sugar too?'

'Oh, I'm not sure that you deserve any.'

Charlie blinked at Manfred and then looked back down at his bowl. Well he was used to eating the tasteless mix anyway, he supposed. 'OK.'

Manfred made a dissatisfied noise and pushed the sugar towards him. 'Have some if you want.'

Surprised, Charlie helped himself. Half-way through his breakfast he realised that Manfred had sounded as if he was disappointed that Charlie hadn't argued with him over the sugar. But why would the head boy want an argument? Maybe, Charlie came to the conclusion, it was so that Manfred would have an excuse to punish him some more. Even though he had, so far, only used up one of his four punishments.

* * *

End of Chapter Four!

Aha so-o-o innocent little Charlie thinks Manfred will punish him with three more slaps? But that _would_ be rather unimaginative of our hypnotist, nay?

Please review!

~WfCP x


	5. Only Eleven

Hello there dear readers,

**title: **The Truth  
**author's notes: **Tehee now we get a bit of action! I guess I should have warned about pederasty too, but there's only 7 years age difference...

Enjoy!

* * *

Only Eleven

* * *

On their way back to Manfred's dingy room Olivia emerged from around a corner and gasped in relief when she saw Charlie, though she tensed when she saw Manfred. 'Charlie!' Olivia gushed, rushing towards him and ignoring the head boy as best she could. 'Are you alright? You weren't at breakfast!'

'I'm-' Charlie began, but then Manfred clawed at his wrist, got a good grip on it, and quickened his pace so drastically that Charlie stumbled and lost his words.

'Hey!' Olivia exclaimed, hurrying after them.

'I'm alright, Olivia,' Charlie called back, fearing that Manfred might punish Olivia too if she continued following them. 'But I don't know when I'll be back.'

They turned a corner to the sound of Olivia shouting 'Don't you dare hurt him Manfred, or else-!' after them.

'Ignore her,' Charlie gasped as he jogged to keep up. A couple of corners and a flight of steps later Manfred slowed and turned his head to give Charlie an incredulous look.

'You want me to ignore her?'

'Yes,' Charlie panted as he regained his breath. He was surprised that Manfred wasn't worn out from the pace because the older boy wasn't exactly sports-orientated. 'She didn't mean to be insolent.' Although Charlie admired Olivia's guts he was always a bit worried that she would take things too far.

'So when she told me not to dare hurt you, you want me to ignore her?' Manfred pressed, wishing to clarify the matter. Charlie hesitated, then bit his lip in thought. They stopped outside Manfred's room as he unlocked it.

'Well I don't want you to hurt me,' Charlie finally said, speaking slowly to make sure he wasn't saying anything stupid. 'But I don't want you to punish her either…'

Manfred pushed him into the room with an amused snort. 'You're such an idiot, Bone.'

'I'm n-' Charlie started, then stopped himself. Had he said something wrong?

'Why are you so worried about _her_ when _you're_ the one who's alone in my room with me?'

'Well-' Charlie faltered.

Manfred dragged him over to the sofa and tripped him so that Charlie sat down with a jolt and a note of surprise. Manfred swiftly joined him and draped an arm around his shoulders in a friendly manner that didn't sit well with their frosty relationship. Charlie wriggled but Manfred's other arm wrapped around his front to keep him still as the head boy leant in conspiratorially. 'Is she your _girlfriend_, Charlie?'

'What?' Charlie demanded, taken off guard. '_No._ Of course not!' Their proximity was bothering him.

Manfred chuckled, then affected disbelief; 'You can't seriously be telling me that the amazing, handsome, _famous_ Charlie Bone doesn't have a girlfriend?'

'I didn't say that,' Charlie sulked, eyes averted. Manfred's sarcasm was getting to him. _Should _he have a girlfriend?

'Oh? So you do?'

Charlie hesitated, then shook his head slightly. 'No.'

'Mm,' Manfred sounded pleased. 'You're telling the truth for once.' When Charlie refused to rise to the bait the head boy continued to quiz Charlie on his love-life. 'So you're not interested in girls?'

'Not really,' Charlie shrugged, making him hyper-aware of Manfred's presence because the older boy's arm added a fair bit of extra weight to this gesture. Why did Manfred want to know this anyway? Charlie frowned: he was too young for girls.

'Ooh now _that's_ scandalous,' Manfred grinned. 'I might forgive you for being boring earlier.'

'What do you mean?' Charlie asked, confused.

'Well let's see: if you're not interested in _girls_ then that must mean you're interested in _boys_.'

Charlie spluttered in shock and indignation. 'That's not what I meant at all!' He blurted out, blushing. 'I'm not interested in either!'

'Oh?' Charlie couldn't bring himself to look at Manfred's eyes, but if he had he would have seen a glint that both promised and warned of mischief. 'But how can you say that if you've never tried?'

'I-I don't understand,' Charlie stammered, his discomfort increasing as he realised that his cheeks were flushed due to his embarrassment at the topic of conversation.

'Well, have you ever kissed anyone before?'

'I've kissed Mum and Maisie…'

'Hah!' Manfred couldn't stop himself from laughing, and a stray strand of hair tickled Charlie's face. 'That's not what I meant, mummy's boy. Have you ever _properly kissed_ someone before?'

A new wave of embarrassed heat washed through Charlie. 'No,' he mumbled. ''course I haven't.' He was only eleven, after all.

'So I was right,' Manfred gloated, moving his left hand - the one around Charlie's front - up to the younger boy's cheek so he could force Charlie to look at him. 'You _can't_ know what your tastes are!'

'I-I don't like this,' Charlie admitted a little fearfully. Manfred was acting weirdly and the flush from his mortification coupled with the older boy's body heat was making Charlie too warm.

Manfred ignored him and for a couple of seconds there was a very heavy silence, their breath mingling in the tight space between their faces. Then Manfred moved subtly forward and Charlie suddenly understood what was about to happen. But the arm around his shoulders wouldn't let him retreat.

Their lips met.

Charlie was just barely aware that this wasn't how his first kiss was supposed to go, but presently he was too stunned to be fully coherent. Manfred's hand had warmed to the same temperature as his cheek and now Charlie felt the digits stroke his face reassuringly. He realised that he had been holding his breath, and so he let it out shakily and quickly drew in more air, breathing through his nose so he could keep his lips firmly closed. His breathing was erratic, like a frightened animal.

'Don't be so scared,' Manfred mumbled against him, eyes shut. 'I'm not hurting you. Try to enjoy it.'

Charlie blinked. It was true that Manfred wasn't hurting him; in fact he was being very gentle. So why was his body acting so scared? At this thought Charlie relaxed a bit and he felt Manfred smile and press closer to him.

When the head boy began to move his lips against his cousin's Charlie hesitantly tried to do the same. The arm around his shoulders made him doubt that Manfred would let him go and so he didn't see why he shouldn't enjoy it. This was, after all, his first kiss.

Closing his eyes to mirror Manfred, Charlie wondered what to do next. He didn't really know how to kiss people properly. Was this all there was to it? Just then though something warm and moist touched his lips and he jolted his head back, opening his eyes wide. Manfred stared back at him in surprise, but then understanding dawned and the older boy shook with silent mirth.

'Oh Charlie,' he laughed. 'That was my tongue. You use it to kiss people.' Charlie continued to look blank so Manfred added, 'Here; open your mouth and I'll show you.'

Charlie began to politely decline but as soon as he parted his lips to speak Manfred's were back on him and the same hot, wet member as before was deftly slipping past his teeth. Charlie couldn't stop a muted noise from escaping him at the invasion, although he wasn't sure what it was meant to convey. Distress? Confusion? _Pleasure_? The younger boy could certainly no longer deny to himself that he was enjoying his cousin's administrations; physically, at least.

Stroked and teased by Manfred's, Charlie's tongue awoke and experimentally pressed back against the dominant party. The hypnotist sighed appreciatively and, his right hand sliding into Charlie's thick hair, he increased the intensity of the kiss until Charlie whimpered from lack of air. Also needing to breathe, Manfred withdrew his tongue and broke the kiss - but not before lowering Charlie down so that they were lying horizontally on the sofa.

Charlie gasped in air, heart hammering, and tried hard not to think about what he was doing. For a while, as Manfred's breath heated his neck and the older boy nipped the sensitive skin there, he succeeded. But this strength of mind did not last long.

'I-I can't do this,' Charlie panted, jerking his head to the left when Manfred's lips nudged his again.

'Shh,' Manfred muttered, kissing Charlie's cheek instead.

'No,' Charlie insisted, hands slipping in between them to rest on Manfred's buttoned shirt. 'Really, Manfred, I c-can't do this.'

''Can't'?' Manfred bit, pulling back to give his cousin a grim stare. 'Or 'won't'?'

'Wha-? I-' Charlie stammered, uncertain. When Manfred gave a self-satisfied smirk though and moved to kiss him again Charlie yelped. 'Both!' Manfred stopped and gave him a withering look, which Charlie, averting his eyes, refused to receive. 'I'm sorry,' Charlie continued more quietly, 'but this is too weird. Please stop.'

Manfred thought it over as Charlie, shaking a bit, stared at the leather back of the couch. Finally he heaved a sigh and carefully extricated himself from the young, warm body beneath him. Surprised, but extremely relieved, Charlie sat up and chanced a look at the head boy, who was now standing. Manfred was gazing at him, but there was very little malice in his eyes. Instead he smiled, plotting some new mischief.

Standing on visibly shaking legs, Charlie put a bit of distance between them before looking back at Manfred and inquiring tentatively; 'Can I go now?'

'Huh?' The older boy asked, blinking out of his reverie. 'Oh!' He said as his mind caught up with the words. 'No, of course not. I said you were staying here until you told me the truth, didn't I?'

Charlie gaped at him. 'Y-you can't be serious,' he trembled.

'Making jokes isn't really my scene,' Manfred replied blithely, moving over to the fire and throwing another log on it. Charlie was already too warm, so he stood uselessly in the centre of the room, not sure what to do with himself. It was a cold day though, storm clouds gathering outside and threatening rain, and Charlie's body soon cooled itself down without the stimulus of before. Bare feet enjoying the soft feel of the jet black carpet, Charlie shuffled over to the wooden chair he'd been sitting on before and sat on it awkwardly, glancing at Manfred as he did so. The coal eyes were staring, unfocused, at the flames, but briefly flicked over to Charlie to acknowledge his shift of position.

Gathering that the order of the moment was silence, Charlie gazed at the fire and got swallowed up by his own thoughts. And suddenly he was appalled at himself; what had he just done? Their fooling about on the couch had a dreamlike quality to it because it was so absurd, and Charlie wished it really had been a dream. Disturbing as that would have been, it was nowhere near as bad as the reality. How had he let himself let Manfred do that? How had he enjoyed it? Because, to his shame, he _had_ enjoyed it. Charlie felt a bit sick.

How was he meant to explain this to Fidelio and Olivia?

Charlie realised that he didn't have to explain it to his friends because they didn't know. And it would stay that way, he decided. This was much better kept quiet and forgotten about. Hopefully he'd be able to forget it at some point too, although glancing at Manfred again made his stomach flip. How could he have been so stupid as to indulge in something so obviously disgusting? And, no less, with the most disgusting person he knew!

But Charlie took that comment back because, whilst he would like to think of Manfred that way, to his distress he found that the same aversion he'd always felt when he looked at Manfred had now disappeared. Instead there was just the physical symptoms of his heart tripping and his stomach twisting. Charlie thought it felt highly unpleasant, but it reminded him a bit of Manfred's tongue in his mouth and heated body pressed on top of him. And that in turn made his breathing erratic and cheeks flushed.

Charlie told his body and mind, quite firmly, to stop it. This was the last thing he needed.

Worse still though, as Charlie soon discovered, was that his first ever erection was tenting his pyjama bottoms. Mortified, Charlie moved his hands slowly (so as not to draw attention to himself) onto his lap to cover it from sight. Inside he panicked; what was he supposed to do? He knew the basic idea of sex, but he wasn't ready for it and, anyway, there wasn't a woman around. What did you do when you got an erection and there weren't any women? No one had ever taught him about this! And that, Charlie decided quite rightly, was because he was too young. Who got stimulated this early? He was only eleven!

Instinct told him to ignore it and, whilst Charlie thought this might be really stupid advice, he nevertheless spent a long time counting times tables in his head and trying to visualise his trumpet-music. To his great surprise - and, obviously, relief - it worked.

* * *

End of Chapter Five!

Aw yay! Finally got some smut in there haha. Ahh I'm such a perv..

Please review!

~WfCP x


	6. Good Night, Charlie

Hello there dear readers,

**title: **The Truth  
**author's notes: **Ahh. Stress levels are rising and I can't sleep at night. But that aside, I managed to write the next chapter.

Enjoy!

* * *

Good Night, Charlie

* * *

Presently Manfred rose from the armchair and told Charlie to get off his chair. Then he carried it over to his desk and poured over the books there, leaving the younger boy to stand awkwardly by the fire. After a few minutes though Charlie moved to kneel on the sofa, arms resting on the leather back, and stared out of the window. The storm clouds were heavy with the promise of rain. He found himself thinking of Tancred, and that led to Lysander and then to thoughts of all his other friends.

Charlie wished that he was at home too and not stuck in the dingy castle with its dreary weather and grey-stone walls. He felt bad for making Olivia get detention with him because now she would be all alone. But she had seen him with Manfred, so at least she knew he wasn't avoiding her on purpose.

Thinking of Manfred, Charlie watched his cousin's reflection in the window pane as he turned a page of his book and scribbled a note in pencil on the page. What was he doing? Homework? Or something infinitely more sinister? Charlie wasn't sure he wanted to know really.

At some point, as Charlie gazed out at the ruins, it began to rain - slowly at first but then gaining force and momentum. The ground quickly grew dark as the water soaked the mud black and the concrete a gloomier shade of grey. The ruins, partly obscured by the thick veil of water running down the glass, seemed to shimmer.

Charlie glanced over at the fire to remind himself that he was inside, safe from the storm. But that reminded him that he wasn't exactly _safe_, because his 'captor' was in the same room.

Bored and hungry - because Charlie realised that he'd probably missed lunch by now - Charlie sunk down into the sofa until he was lying on his side, staring at the door longingly. He almost drifted off to sleep several times before he heard Manfred shut his book with a frustrated thud and a sigh. Charlie pushed himself up on one arm so he could see the older boy, who stretched languidly before looking over his shoulder at Charlie and frowning. After several seconds Manfred blinked, breaking the connection, and rose fluidly from his chair.

'Are you hungry?'

Charlie sat up properly when he heard those words. 'Yes,' he replied quickly, cheered by the prospect of food. Manfred looked sour, as if he was annoyed that he had made Charlie happy.

'Come on then.'

Checking his watch as they walked to the kitchen, Charlie was surprised at how late it was. Not only had he missed lunch but dinner would be over by now too. He wondered if Manfred often ate this late, or whether it was solely to keep Charlie away from Olivia. Then again, he'd always thought that Manfred had his meals in the west-wing during the weekend with his father and grandfather.

There was some kind of stew for dinner, which Manfred heated up as it had started to cool down already. Charlie had hoped that Olivia would be waiting in the canteen so he could see her again, but she hadn't been there when they'd walked through to the kitchens. Disappointed, he ate his food in silence.

Then he had a sudden thought.

'Manfred?' Charlie asked tentatively as his cousin took his bowl away and stacked it in the sink for someone else to wash-up later. Manfred glanced at him to show he'd heard before starting back out of the canteen and into the great hall. Hurrying after him and ignoring the no-talking rule Charlie continued, 'should I go back to my dorm now? It's getting quite late.'

Manfred stopped abruptly half-way up the stairs to give Charlie a rather contemptuous look. Charlie met this with innocent confusion.

'What?' Charlie protested when Manfred didn't answer him. 'I didn't say anything wrong.'

'You have the memory of a gold-fish,' Manfred finally explained, scorning Charlie with his jet-black eyes. He began to move again, continuing his ascent of the stairs. 'You haven't given me the truth yet, so you can't go back to your dorm.'

Charlie stared after him in alarm, then ran to catch up. 'But if I'm not going back to my dorm…'

'Then you're staying with me,' Manfred finished offhandedly. 'Do you have a problem with that?'

Charlie wasn't sure how to reply. The idea of spending the night in Manfred's room had never occurred to him. Now several questions bombarded his mind and left him speechless with their separate insistence to be the first to be voiced. Manfred, Charlie could see, was smirking.

For a moment Charlie seriously considered telling his cousin the truth, but he couldn't endanger Henry like that. If the Bloors found out that Henry was still alive in this time period they wouldn't rest until they had got hold of him and done something nasty. Charlie couldn't sell out on his relative like that just because Manfred was giving him a hard time and making him feel uncomfortable.

'No,' Charlie finally replied. 'No problem.'

Back in the head boy's bedroom, Charlie glared at the fire as Manfred changed into his pyjamas behind him. He tried to convince himself that his red cheeks were due to heat from the flames, and not from his embarrassment at being in the same room as a naked Manfred.

Being in his pyjamas already Charlie had no need to change, and so when Manfred had finished he turned around and eyed the sofa. He wondered if he could ask for a blanket from his cousin, but doubted that the answer would be yes. If he didn't ask though he'd never know for sure.

'No.' Manfred's answer was short and blunt when Charlie did finally ask for a cover. Putting out the fire and plunging the room into dim shadows, Manfred narrowed his eyes in thought, then snapped his dark orbs over to Charlie warily. Without explaining his suspicions the older boy moved over to his chest of drawers and hunted about a bit before withdrawing a length of rope. Charlie stared at it in surprise.

'You can't tie me up!' He objected incredulously as Manfred smirked and advanced on Charlie, who by this point was perched on the sofa.

'Can't I?'

'That's- That's-' Charlie stammered, edging along the sofa away from Manfred. 'I'm pretty sure you can get in trouble for that!'

'Psh,' Manfred scorned, stopping directly in front of Charlie and so blocking any chance of escape. 'What bollocks. Who do you think I'm going to be in trouble with, eh?'

Charlie honestly didn't know. All figures of authority seemed to hate him. Only uncle Paton would side with Charlie, but it was doubtful whether Paton would make the effort to come all the way to Bloors Academy just to admonish Manfred.

Smiling triumphantly, Manfred crouched down and grabbed Charlie's right wrist, looping the rope around it and tying a secure knot.

'Why do you need to tie me up anyway?' Charlie sulked, though he thought he could guess the answer.

'I don't trust you in here whilst I'm asleep.'

'Then send me back to my dorm. I can hardly tell you what you want to know whilst you're asleep anyhow.'

'Feel free to wake me, if you have a change of heart about your silence in this matter.'

'How can I wake you if I'm tied up?' Charlie snapped as Manfred took his other wrist and began to attach it to Charlie's right. 'Do you want me to scream at you?'

This made Manfred pause and Charlie tried not to look too pleased that his words had made his cousin hesitate. Perhaps he wouldn't have to be tied up after all.

'Good point,' Manfred muttered after a while. A small smile curled his lips; not a good sign. 'OK then. You're going to sleep on the floor by my bed,' the head boy decided, pulling Charlie to his feet by his rope-bound hands and dragging him over to the bed. Charlie anticipated the push that sent him tumbling to the floor and winced as he fell awkwardly on his side, hands useless to break his descent.

'And then…' Manfred continued slowly as he slipped under the black sheets on his bed, still holding the rope. 'I'll tie the other end of the rope to my wrist, so if you need to wake me you can tug at the rope.' Charlie listened to the sound of Manfred securing the rope to his own wrist. 'Also, this way, I'll be able to tell if you try to escape.' The head boy sounded very pleased with himself. 'Good night, Charlie.'

'Night, Manfred,' Charlie mumbled back, not able to add the 'good' prefix because he was cold and uncomfortable. With his hands tied in front of him he found it hard to get to sleep and found himself dreading the rest of the long night ahead; despite the fire only recently having been extinguished, the room was still cold and it could only get colder.

Closing his eyes, Charlie listened to the rain outside. He considered pulling at the rope to wake Manfred up, just out of spite, but didn't like the idea of an angry, tired Manfred glaring down at him. This was to be unavoidable though, as the older boy hadn't factored in the draw-backs of his plan.

When Manfred tried to roll over in his sleep, the rope attached to Charlie stopped him and he awoke instinctively. When he realised what had woken him he grumbled quietly and tried to get back to sleep, but the second time this happened Manfred couldn't ignore it anymore.

'Charlie, are you awake?' Manfred hissed, jutting his head over the side of the bed to glare at his cousin. Charlie opened his eyes by way of an answer, his muscles continuing to shiver from the cold. 'This isn't working,' Manfred continued in a low voice, lifting his bound wrist to emphasise his point.

'So untie me,' Charlie replied, teeth chattering. 'And let me go back to my dorm.'

'That's not going to happen.'

'Well what then?' Charlie was annoyed. Not only was he going to get a cold from being on the floor all night, but his wrists were a bit sore from the rough rope and now Manfred was complaining. _Manfred_, who had a nice warm bed to sleep in, was complaining.

Manfred quietly cleared his throat and Charlie looked back up at him. To his surprise, he saw that the head boy looked uncomfortable with what he was about to say.

Manfred looked away and ordered gruffly, 'Get into bed with me.'

Charlie's mouth dropped open and he remained where he was on the floor.

'Stop looking at me like that,' Manfred growled, glancing at Charlie in self-concious annoyance. 'You heard what I said. Now get into bed with me.'

'N-_no_!' Charlie finally gasped. 'I'm good on the floor, thanks.' Sharing a bed with Manfred was like wandering through the ruins at night with a flourescent 'eat me, Asa' sign; something Charlie wanted to avoid at all costs.

'Oh don't be foolish,' Manfred snapped. 'You'll freeze down there, and if you're next to me there'll be enough slack on the rope for me to roll over without being jolted awake.'

'Er,' said Charlie. He wanted to give some plausible reasons for staying on the floor, but Manfred leant down and pulled him to his feet, drawing the covers back and helping Charlie onto the bed since the younger boy's hands were tried, making it harder for him to move about unaided. Lying completely still, Charlie forced himself to breathe as Manfred leant over him to pull the sheets - which Charlie now discovered were silk - back over them both. Then the head boy flopped down beside him and a stony silence ensued.

'Stop shivering,' Manfred bit out in exasperation a few minutes later.

'Sorry,' Charlie mumbled, but he couldn't help it: he was still cold.

Another couple of minutes passed.

'I said stop it.'

Charlie turned his head to face Manfred, since it was easier than twisting his body to the side. 'I've tried,' Charlie protested quietly in an injured tone of voice. Manfred glared back at him. Then he raised his eyes to stare at ceiling and sighed wearily.

'You're more trouble than you're worth,' Manfred muttered and, to Charlie's surprise and horror, the older boy shuffled closer and wrapped his left arm around Charlie, pressing against his side and sharing his body warmth. Hot breath on his neck made Charlie tense, but when it didn't go away he finally softened under Manfred, unable to hold his muscles rigid any longer. Anyway he _was_ much warmer now and had stopped shivering.

'Thanks,' Charlie muttered grudgingly.

'Huh?' Manfred hummed against him drowsily. 'Oh right. Good night again, Charlie.'

'Good night, Manfred.'

* * *

End of Chapter Six!

Aww, how cute~!

Please review,

~WfCP x


	7. Can't Sleep Alone

Hello there dear readers,

**title: **The Truth  
**author's notes:** The long Manfred-Charlie stuck together section ends here.

Enjoy!

* * *

Can't Sleep Alone

* * *

Charlie awoke abruptly at the feel of something colliding forcefully against his left side. Air escaping his lungs, the young Bone boy opened his eyes wide and instinctively turned his head to the left, attempting to sit up but finding his hands unable to move. Just as he realised they were bound, his eyes fixed themselves on Manfred.

The head boy looked rather sheepish for a moment, but his expression quickly hardened when he realised he was being observed. 'I forgot about you,' Manfred explained gruffly and Charlie then understood. Manfred had obviously woken to find someone in his bed and had panicked. A reasonable thing to do, the younger boy silently admitted. And at least Charlie hadn't been pushed hard enough to fall off the bed; that would have hurt quite a bit, considering his hands were useless to catch his fall.

'Could you, er, untie me now?' Charlie ventured, voice still in the hoarse stages of just-having-awoken. Manfred, propped up on his right elbow, considered this request seriously. Then he looked out of the window.

'What time do you think it is?'

Charlie suppressed a sigh and, unable to sit up, tilted his head so that he could see the sky. The sun was up already, high enough to be seen over the tops of the trees. 'Morning,' Charlie half-shrugged.

'Almost mid-day,' Manfred agreed. 'I never sleep this long.'

Charlie felt some alarm at the time. 'My mum will be here soon,' he reminded his cousin, hoping above all hopes that the hypnotist would take the hint.

'So she will.' Manfred smiled down at Charlie with infuriating blankness. Charlie thought that Manfred might be putting it on somewhat; no doubt being in drama had taught him some acting tricks.

'So, um, I should probably go and pack soon.'

'That's usually a sensible idea,' Manfred agreed blithely.

Charlie glared up at him for a minute or so but Manfred refused to acknowledge the frustration. Finally Charlie sighed in exasperation; 'Manfred, I can't pack if you don't untie me!'

'Oh, can't you?' The older boy seemed unconcerned as he stared out of the window at the ruins. Charlie gritted his teeth. What did Manfred want? For him to beg for it? Alright then.

'Manfred, _please_ will you untie me?'

'Ah!' The hypnotist turned triumphant, jet black eyes on his cousin. 'Of course, why didn't you say so before?'

Biting his tongue to stop himself from saying something rude back (and spoiling his chances of leaving) Charlie felt relief wash through him at the feel of Manfred's lithe fingers tugging at the tight knots. Every now and again their skin would brush but Charlie just closed his eyes and pretended it didn't matter. After all it was just Manfred's fingers. It wasn't as though it were his lips or…but Charlie stopped there, didn't want to think about that.

His bonds removed, Charlie immediately tried to sit up, but his hands protested vehemently at any weight being placed on them and he collapsed back down with a surprised 'Ouch!'.

Manfred smiled thinly at that, busy removing the other loop of rope from his own left wrist. 'Whoops, did I tie it too tight?' He didn't sound at all remorseful, and Charlie doubted that Manfred had maltreated his own wrist half as much.

Sullenly, the younger boy began to massage his wrists and wriggle his fingers to get the blood circulating again. Finished fiddling with the rope, Manfred simply sat and stared at Charlie's angry administrations for a while. But finally he reached forward and took Charlie's left hand in his own and began to massage it with a gentle intensity that made the younger boy look away in embarrassment. Charlie didn't complain though because Manfred, with his two fully-functioning hands, was much better than he was at restoring the circulation to normal.

Manfred flopped back down on the bed and closed his eyes when he had tended to Charlie's chaffed wrists as well as he could. He looked surprisingly peaceful, the younger boy thought, basking in the golden sunrays shafting through the windows onto the black sheets.

'The door isn't locked,' Manfred murmured when he realised that Charlie hadn't moved. 'I'll see you on Monday.'

Something, for some reason, for some several seconds, made Charlie want to linger and made the idea of going home and leaving Manfred alone in his room unappealing. Disturbed by this feeling, Charlie hurriedly slid out of the silken sheets and padded over to the door.

'See you on Monday,' he replied, voice still a bit hoarse. He wondered whether he was catching a cold, despite Manfred's efforts to stop him from shivering the night before.

...

Olivia had already gone by the time Charlie met his mum outside the academy and dumped his suitcase in the trunk of the car.

'Sorry I'm late,' he apologised quickly.

'What kept you?' Amy Bone asked curiously as she waited for Charlie to do up his seat-belt and then started the car.

'The head boy wanted a word with me.' Charlie really didn't want to explain the situation in detail, but he also didn't like to lie. It struck him that it would be difficult to explain things to Olivia and the rest of his friends when he returned to Bloor's on Monday. He certainly wasn't going to mention some of the things that had happened!

'Oh dear,' Amy sighed. 'Is he giving you trouble?'

Charlie shrugged. 'Yeah a bit. He was just particularly touchy this week.'

'Well please do be careful.' Mrs Bone worried about her son, but with him being away from her so much she knew that she would just have to rely on him to look after himself.

'I'll try,' Charlie promised.

...

After a delicious meal from a doting Maisie, Charlie disappeared to his room and tried to do some of the homework he hadn't been able to do during the week because of Manfred's disconcerting stares and meetings. But he couldn't really concentrate.

Charlie's mind kept being drawn back to his cousin and what had transpired between them that week. He remembered Manfred's cold fingers tracing his neck, gripping his chin, smacking his cheek. The mark it had left had stung for ages, but now it barely hurt at all when he prodded it. He could see Manfred pointing to his own cheek and smirking as he referred to the slap; he cared not a jot that he had hurt Charlie. And yet this was the same boy - _man_, Charlie reminded himself - who had carefully massaged his wrists that morning.

Then there was the kissing, which Charlie had been trying very hard not to think about. It was weird. He didn't know exactly how to feel about it. He should be disgusted, he decided, but he wasn't. It hadn't felt bad and it wasn't as if Manfred had done it out of the blue; techinically he had been making the point that Charlie couldn't make assertions about his sexuality with absolutely no experience. But Charlie couldn't help feeling that the head boy had been enjoying himself, which made things just a bit awkward. Did Manfred want to kiss him again? But then, surely the hypnotist would have taken advantage of Charlie when he was tied up, if that were the case.

Shaking his head, Charlie sighed and forced his eyes to focus on the maths equations printed in black on the page. After a couple of badly-answered questions Charlie's mind wandered again. What had Manfred been scribbling on his book? What book was it? Homework? What subjects did Manfred study? How many exams would he have in the summer? What was he doing now?

Throwing his pen at his book in frustration Charlie stood up and left the house, calling that he was going for a walk. He would take Runner for a walk, and perhaps that would help clear his head.

...

Sleep did not come easily. Charlie had given Runner Bean the most intensive run he'd had in a long time, chasing the dog around the park and being chased in turn, with the intention of wearing himself out. But whilst Runner Bean had collapsed into his basket and fallen asleep as soon as he was returned to Mr Onimous, Charlie's mind was still restless.

He pottered down to the kitchen to get a glass of water after another hour of staring at his curtains. Paton didn't join him, although Charlie had almost hoped he would.

Finally, after another hour in bed, Charlie drifted off to sleep through exhaustion.

...

Manfred was worse. He hadn't really known what to do once Charlie had left, and had regretted not giving the boy another detention to keep him in school during Sunday as well.

Usually Manfred was very good at keeping himself busy. He would work, or read his sorcery books, or walk around the familiar ruins. Often he would just sit and entertain himself with his own thoughts, plotting some new mischief or evil - many of which stayed in his head.

But he'd had fun with Charlie there. It was amusing to watch the younger boy's awkwardness and confusion. Talking to his cousin was also enjoyable, because Charlie was so stubborn - and yet Manfred was intelligent enough to push him into a verbal corner and make him stutter. The peak of that weekend's entertainment though had to be their kiss.

It wasn't as if Manfred sexually fancied Charlie, and indeed he'd only really started the harrassment because he'd wanted to see how the younger boy reacted, wanted to see him stammer and blush in that delightfully awkward manner. But despite this the hypnotist couldn't deny that he'd enjoyed the tight heat of his cousin's mouth. It was a little disturbing actually, now he thought about it.

He had never liked Charlie, and often cursed him in the small hours of the night. Now he saw the boy more as an object of ridicule, but there was a part of him that wanted his cousin in a different way. Intimidating Charlie was always enjoyable, and making the boy flushed as well as speechless just seemed to be the next step up.

Emitting a soft, appreciative noise at the image his imagination had just created Manfred blinked himself back to the present and laughed a little at himself. What was he doing, whiling away his time thinking of that little brat? He must have something important that he'd neglected to do somewhere...

After moving to his private study though and revising for a few hours Manfred found himself more bored than he'd been in a long time.

'Damn Bone,' he bit out sourly. Why did he wish he'd kept Charlie in detention longer? The boy would just become a nuisance if you spent too much time with him anyway. Better to have a break.

...

But that night Manfred couldn't sleep and it frustrated him. It wasn't as if he slept a lot usually - in fact he often spent most of the night practising his sorcery and then watching the sun rise when he woke too early. But he'd slept extraordinarily well the night before, better than he had for years, better than he could remember ever sleeping. This annoyed him to no end.

'I should have slept _worse_ with Bone here.' Manfred frowned at his reflection in the long mirror he was kneeling in front of. Soft, flickering candle-light illuminated his black-clad figure, throwing dark shadows over his face and emphasising his sharp cheek-bones and gaunt skin. He had intended to indulge in sorcery again that night, but he suddenly wasn't in the mood. He pushed the book away from him and dropped his shoulders with a sigh.

'Stupid ingrate, causing me to feel like this.' He glared into the glass, eyes distant and intense as he tried to imagine that it was Charlie's face staring back at him, young eyes wide and fearful. 'Now how should I punish you?'

* * *

End of Chapter Seven!

Wah~ I'm getting these out pretty quickly, nay?

But I have to go out now so..

Please Review!

~WfCP x


	8. Friends of Bone

Hello there dear readers,

**title: **The Truth  
**author's notes:** Sorry there isn't much Manfred-Charlie in this chapter. It's also pretty short, but I need to keep the realism.

Enjoy!

* * *

Friends of Bone

* * *

Groggily Charlie awoke, then started and sat up with a jolt, looking to his side warily. Manfred wasn't there. He was alone. He was at home, in his own bed. Charlie gradually remembered everything from yesterday and looked down at his wrists to reassure himself that they were free from rope, even if they were still a bit raw.

He couldn't work out whether it was a relief that Manfred was all the way across town from him or if it was lonely waking up with no-one beside him. Despite the cold, wet weather of late Charlie had been warm when he had woken up yesterday. Today he missed that extra heat.

'That's not right,' Charlie grumbled to himself as he tumbled out of bed and rummaged through his drawer for some clothes. 'I only slept with him once. I can't have gotten used to it.' He assumed it was just him overexaggerating the situation, his subconscious still worried about how he was going to keep it all from his friends.

...

Manfred awoke stiffly and groaned when he realised that he was bent over his desk, cheek pressed against his open physics book. He wasn't usually irresponsible enough to fall asleep in a chair - especially in the colder months - for fear of developing a fever. But for some reason he had. He cast his mind back.

Oh yes. Charlie. He hadn't been able to sleep because of that wretched first-former.

Carefully, Manfred put a hand to his back and sat up very slowly. He wasn't as stiff as he'd feared, which was a blessing. Manfred sighed and rubbed his face. That had not been a good night's sleep.

...

'Charlie!' Olivia greeted enthusiastically when he entered the pet's café. Charlie waved back as he made his way over to where his friends were sitting; Emma and Fidelio were with Olivia, although Gabriel, Tancred and Lysander were obviously busy elsewhere.

'Hi,' Charlie said as he sat down, finding it surprisingly easy to smile at his purple-haired friend. He had been dreading seeing his friends, knowing full well that he would have to make up something about why Manfred had monopolised his time so completely during his detention, and had almost decided to stay at home. But then he'd realised that that would just make matters worse.

'Hello Charlie,' Emma greeted with a quiet relief. 'Olivia told us about Manfred. I'm glad he let you go home yesterday.'

'Why on earth was he so intent on keeping you from Livvie anyway?' Fidelio piped up, annoyed at the head boy.

Charlie just shrugged. He still hadn't thought of an excuse.

'He's been hounding you all week,' Fidelio added. 'There must be a reason.'

'Didn't he say anything?' Emma probed gently.

'Not really,' Charlie shrugged again. He was aware that his reply was rather lame. 'I think he's just in a bad mood over Henry's dissappearance. Or maybe it has something to do with his mother.'

'But Manfred hated his mother!' Olivia cried.

'Well maybe he didn't!' Charlie clung desperately to his defence. 'I mean, maybe he thought he hated her. But you know that sometimes you only miss something when it's gone? Well perhaps he's beginning to realise that he really did like her, and he's angry that he let her go.'

'But why would he be taking it out on you?' Emma wondered.

Charlie shrugged for the third time. Was he overdoing his ignorance? Then again, in all honesty he _wasn't_ sure why Manfred was taking things out on him, or even why he was angry to begin with. The head boy had professed that it was to do with Charlie being happy when he shouldn't be…but that was a lie, Charlie was sure.

'Charlie's an obvious target,' Fidelio answered Emma. 'Manfred hates him already.'

'And he sees me in the King's room every evening,' Charlie pointed out, glad that Fidelio was inadvertedly helping him.

There was a pause, in which Charlie helped himself to a biscuit. He was surprised that Runner Bean hadn't come out to greet him, but he had rather worn the dog out the day before. Perhaps he was still sleeping.

'So what did you _do_?' Olivia finally asked. 'Being stuck with Manfred must have been horrendous.'

'Yeah,' Charlie agreed slowly. 'Yeah it was pretty bad, but he didn't say much so I just had to sit in his room and it was really boring. Sorry you had to be on your own, Liv.'

'Huh?' Olivia replied blithely. 'Oh that's OK, I had some fun scaring Mr Weedon.'

Charlie gave her a confused look. So did Fidelio. Olivia grinned.

'I've been practicing different voices recently and I'm getting pretty good at them.' Here the enthusiastic girl deepened her voice dramatically to show off her talent: 'Hello-o-o-o. You are not _saaafffffe_ here!'

Imagining Mr Weedon's face at hearing this, everyone collapsed into fits of giggles.

...

Pleased that talking to his friends had been so easy, Charlie managed to get most of his homework done when he got home. Then, after eating Maisie's delicious cooking, he returned to his room and stared out of the window. The daylight had mostly faded because, even in March, darkness fell quite quickly, and he found himself staring at Benjamin's house across the road. He missed him already, although he hadn't been gone long. Ben brought a wonderful normality to Charlie's world that Manfred and the rest of the endowed ripped to smithereens in his absence.

Manfred.

'No,' Charlie groaned, shaking his head vehemently. 'I'm _not_ going to think of him.'

He would forget the older boy. He would forget that weekend and the week before. Everything would go back to normal. Everything would be fine.

...

Weird hissing and squeeking sounds floated through the walls and ceiling, accompanied by a frenzied, muffled chant. Manfred glared at the roof of his room moodily. It wasn't as if he wasn't used to his great-grandpa's experiments and sorcery, but it bothered him more than usual tonight.

'Keeping me awake,' he mumbled bitterly, turning onto his side and pulling the covers tighter around him. It was too cold.

Manfred was a light sleeper, but he couldn't wholly pretend that it was Ezekiel who was robbing him of sleep: he'd grown so used to the old man's experminets over the years that they rarely stopped him from sleeping. Occasionally he would wake up when they went wrong, but that was generally due to Ezekial screeching curses at the ruined ingredients. No, it wasn't the whistling or the intonation that was bothering Manfred. It was the solitude.

'I like being alone,' Manfred disputed petulantly. Well, that much was true. 'It's the cold,' he continued to mutter to himself. 'It's just too cold.'

* * *

End of Chapter Eight!

I realised today that I've mucked up some of the chronology of the books in this fic. Nimmo tends to only cover the first half of the terms, so I thought I'd write this as being the second half of the winter term (March-April). Unfortunately whilst I started writing this after I'd re-read the second book, I then continued to read my way through the series, and I began to forget exactly what had and hadn't happened by the end of the second book. That's why Benjamin has already left for Hong Kong and Runner Bean is in the pets cafe, even though I think Ben leaves at the start of the third book, which would be the beginning of the Summer term of the first year.  
Phew! How long winded!

Anyway, chronology mistakes aside, what did you think?

~WfCP x


	9. Dance, Dance

Hello there dear readers,

**title: **The Truth  
**author's notes:** A longer chapter to make up for the short one earlier. Also we're back onto the Manfred/Charlie bits after half of the chapter.  
Oh and the chapter title is really vague and appears to have nothing to do with what happens, but it's the name of a song by Fall Out Boy which happened to start playing as I was uploading this chapter. It has the line 'I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me' in it, which I thought was so terribly fitting that I couldn't possibly not include it somehow!  
Cue the title 'Dance, Dance'!

Enjoy!

* * *

Dance, Dance

* * *

'Woah!' Fidelio exclaimed when he saw Charlie on the bus on Monday morning. 'What happened to you?'

Having had similar comments from his family, Charlie was not in a good mood. 'Nothing,' he snapped, sitting next to Fidelio with a huge sigh. Realising he'd taken his friend aback with his harsh tone, Charlie apologised.

'No but seriously, what happened?' Fidelio wondered in a softer vioce than before. Charlie sighed again.

'I'm not sure. I mean, I woke up in the landing, on the floor. Mum thinks I must have fallen down the stairs but I can't even remember getting up.' He frowned. 'It's really not that bad, is it?'

Fidelio shook his head. 'You look a bit like you've been a fight,' he added a moment later with a grin. Charlie reluctantly grinned back, trying to see the funny side of things. 'Maybe you were sleepwalking.'

...

Olivia, when she heard what had happened, couldn't stop herself from laughing, but Emma looked concerned. Charlie only saw Lysander, Tancred and Gabriel when it was break time, and by this point he was tired of all the mocking remarks thrown his way.

'It's alright really,' Lysander placated. 'Only a few bruises.'

'Yeah,' Tancred agreed. 'When I heard Asa laughing about it he made it sound like you'd turned purple and swelled up like a balloon.'

Charlie looked mortified.

'Here,' Olivia offered brightly, 'come to my dorm after dinner and I'll give you some make-up.'

'_Make-up_?' All of the boys chorused in horrified unison. Olivia laughed at them.

'Of course. It'll cover up that cut on your cheek and make your eye look a bit more normal.'

'I can't wear make-up,' Charlie blushed, embarassed. 'That's for girls.'

'Don't be silly,' Olivia bossed. 'I'll see you just before dinner.' And with that she turned and skipped off across the field to some of her drama friends who had just waved her over.

Charlie looked to his friends for help but they just shrugged.

'Might as well allow her,' Lysander suggested.

'Olivia isn't going to take no for an answer,' Fidelio agreed.

'Actually, it might be a good idea,' Emma smiled gently.

Charlie threw his hands up in defeat. 'Fine!'

...

Just before dinner, Charlie found himself sitting on the edge of Olivia's bed, nervously peering at the tubes and bottles she was rummaging through inside her pink make-up case. Fidelio had come too, unable to resist the opportunity to have a good laugh at Charlie's expense.

'Liv, are you sure about this?' Charlie worried as she grinned tirumphantly and pulled out a skin-coloured tube.

'Yes, this should do,' Olivia hummed happily to herself as she held it up to Charlie's face. 'Your skin isn't much darker than mine.'

Fidelio gave Charlie a thumbs up as Olivia opened the tube and began to smear her friend's cheek with the paste. With the uncomfortable feeling that it was too late to go back now, Charlie closed his eyes and hoped for the best.

At dinner Gabriel was very supportive of Olivia's work. 'It looks much better now, you know,' he insisted. 'And from a distance you can't see that it's make-up.'

'From a distance,' Charlie groaned and held his head in his hands.

...

In the King's room, Charlie stared at the Red King for help. The shadow, ever-present, blocked him time and time again.

In all his embarassment, Charlie had been happily able to push Manfred to the back of his mind, but when the head boy entered the room, late, Charlie jolted in alarm. He expected to receive a glare for staring at the older boy, but Manfred kept his eyes averted from Charlie as he sat down silently. No one dared mention that he was late, although it looked like Asa was going to for a moment; the beast-boy quickly changed his mind when Manfred shot him a piercing, angry look. The atmosphere lowered dramatically. Charlie swallowed.

Realising that Manfred seemed to be avoiding looking at him, Charlie turned his attention from the Red King to the head boy instead. He looked rather the worse for wear, although perhaps Charlie was a bit hypocritical to think so. Regardless, Manfred's eyes were rimmed with shadows belying the little sleep he had been getting and his shoulders drooped a bit. Charlie tried to work but found that he couldn't. His gaze kept getting drawn back to Manfred, who, he realised, was watching him when he wasn't looking; for the older boy always flicked his eyes away whenever Charlie looked up.

Discomforted, Charlie was glad when the bell rang.

Things weren't back to normal.

They weren't fine.

He couldn't forget.

...

Olivia brought Charlie some make-up remover before bed and promised to come before breakfast to re-apply it. This made him feel very subconcious as the boys in his dormitory ridiculed him for it.

'No thanks, Olivia,' Charle declined desperately. 'I'm fine without it.'

'Don't let them get to you,' Olivia whispered, glaring meaningfully at the other boys. Charlie groaned. 'No really Livvie. I'd rather not.'

After a few seconds, Olivia huffed. 'Fine then. Don't say I didn't try to help!' And with that she flounced out of the boys' dormitary with a scowl.

'You've done it now,' Fidelio chuckled, slipping under the covers. Charlie just rolled his eyes at him. He had bigger things to worry about.

Like Manfred.

He'd told himself not to think about the man the night before, but now he realised that ignoring what had happened wouldn't make it go away. Manfred had looked exhausted, and it concerned Charlie a bit. What had happened to the head boy since he'd last seen him?

Charlie drifted in and out of sleep. He was tired from a day of school and all of the humiliation he had felt due to his bruised eye and cut cheek. Yet he kept waking up and it was beginning to really annoy him. Would he never be able to sleep well again? The last two nights had been dreadful by all accounts.

Walking to the window, Charlie peeked through the curtains and looked up at the moon. He took some solace in the pearly glow, and he realised that he'd probably have to sort out his issues over what had happened at the weekend before he'd be able to sleep properly. He wondered how he would do that. Would he have to talk to Manfred? Reluctantly, Charlie decided that this was probably the best plan.

'But when?' He murmured, still staring up at the white globe hanging over the Academy. Unsurprisingly he received no answer from the moon, but inside he knew that there was no time like the present. Besides, Charlie wasn't a boy who delayed once he had decided what to do.

So, sneaking out of the dormitory, Charlie made his way to the West wing, careful not to bump into Matron. He heard her footsteps at one point, but luckily they were travelling away from him and so he could continue safely on.

Padding down the intimidatingly posh, carpeted hallway that led to Manfred's room though Charlie felt an awful forboding. What was he doing, anyway, trying to visit the headboy at this time of night? He knew he should turn back, but now he'd come all this way it seemed a waste. He stopped outside the door, wondered whether to knock. For a long time he hesitated, but then he was saved from having to make a decision.

A key clicked in the lock and then the door swung inwards, revealing a bare-footed, cold-eyed Manfred. Charlie stared, suddenly struck with how unprepared he was; why had he even come? What was he going to say? Manfred was wearing an expression Charlie had never seen before and it didn't inspire him with confidence.

'Charlie,' Manfred croaked after a long time. He cleared his throat and stepped to the side, motioning Charlie to enter the room by waving his hand slightly. Hesitantly, the young boy slipped past Manfred. The thick carpet didn't feel as nice when he was wearing his slippers, but he didn't feel at home enough to remove them.

Charlie heard the door close behind him. The knot of unease twisted itself tighter inside him, but he was relieved not to hear the click of a key. He was not locked in. He turned to face the head boy, who had a hand pressed against the oak door as if to steady himself; he didn't look all that well, but maybe that was just how his pale face was lit by the few candles clustered around the mirror.

The silence was tangible. Manfred didn't seem to even have the energy to meet his gaze, so Charlie looked around the room. It was the same as before, the fire now a pile of ashes, and the only difference was the lit candles.

'Er, I hope I didn't wake you,' Charlie finally ventured, glancing cautiously at his cousin. Manfred blinked slowly, then met Charlie's gaze. Running a tired hand over his face, the older boy shook his head just once and then pushed himself away from the door and walked with only the slightest instability to the bed. He sat down rather heavily, still wearing his long, black silk dressing gown.

'What do you want?'

Nervously, Charlie shifted from foot to foot. 'I should go,' he said by way of an answer. 'You look like you need some sleep.'

This evoked a very sharp stare, the most promising sign of life from Manfred yet seen by Charlie that day. He thought it meant that the head boy didn't agree with this statement. Then the jet eyes closed and Manfred sighed and repeated, 'What do you want?'

'Well,' Charlie floundered. He had no idea how to begin. 'I want to talk about Saturday.'

Manfred almost looked amused. 'Do you?'

'Well, no,' Charlie admitted. 'Not really. But I think we should.'

Massaging his temples, Manfred considered, then patted the bed next to him. 'Sit,' he ordered blandly. Charlie hesitantly obeyed, making sure he didn't place himself too close to his cousin. Manfred shifted so he was looking at Charlie. 'Talk then, if you must.'

What had he come to say? Charlie had wanted to sort things out so he could sleep again, but he didn't know what that entailed. He thought it best to just be honest and say whatever came to him first. 'I can't sleep very well,' he explained simply.

Manfred snorted faintly. 'I can't sleep at all.'

'I think-' Charlie took a deep breath. He had resolved to be honest. 'I thought it might have something to do with Saturday.' He couldn't look at Manfred.

'Did you? And what do you think now?'

'Er,' Charlie realised he'd spoken in the past tense. 'The same.'

'When you say Saturday,' Manfred muttered wearily, 'do you mean the night? Or the afternoon?'

Charlie shifted uncomfortably. 'Probably both.' By the afternoon the head boy meant their time together on the couch, Charlie was sure.

Manfred sighed at the somewhat evasive answer. 'So why did you come here?'

'I thought talking about it might help.' He'd used the past tense again. 'I mean, I still _do_ think it might help.'

'We _are_ talking about it,' the older boy pointed out. 'Is it helping?'

Charlie wasn't sure, and his silence spoke for him.

'Look Charlie,' Manfred continued in a slightly more forceful tone, although his exhaustion was still evident. 'I don't usually sleep much, but the last two nights have been particularly bad. Friday night was the longest sleep I can ever remember.'

Charlie couldn't help but butt in, 'I don't usually sleep until midday either.'

Manfred gave him a funny look, then pursed his lips and stared at the window. The curtains weren't drawn and the moonlight shone in, making the candles barely necessary. 'I'm too tired to properly talk right now,' Manfred finally explained.

'Should I go?' Charlie earned a withering look for this suggestion.

'Listen, Bone, _listen_!' Manfred snapped, exasperated. Charlie blinked at him in surprise. 'Why do you think I haven't slept the last two nights? Why do you think you haven't been sleeping well? Do you honestly think that _talking_ is going to solve that?'

Charlie guessed these were rhetorical questions. Uncertainly he shook his head, although he wasn't sure he understood. Manfred raised his eyes to the ceiling as if looking for inspiration there. Clearly he was frustrated at how slow his cousin was.

Gradually, as Manfred wondered how explicit he had to be, Charlie began to understand. 'We both slept well Friday night, when I was here,' Charlie began, watching the head boy's face closely to make sure what he was saying was right. 'And since then we haven't slept well at all. So if we want to sleep then it makes sense if we…er…' Charlie looked away.

Manfred slipped off of the bed and moved over to the mirror so he could put out the candles. 'Stay here tonight,' he requested simply.

Relieved that he hadn't had to finish his train of thoughts out loud, Charlie kicked off his slippers and crawled under the covers. Having shed his dressing gown, Manfred slithered in beside the younger boy and wrapped an arm around his front.

'Manfred…?' Charlie protested, wriggling under the hold. The arm contracted around him and with a little sigh the head boy pressed close against Charlie's side. 'I'm not cold.' It was only a small lie.

'Don't be silly,' Manfred mumbled back. 'I'm not trying to warm you up. I'm stopping you from wrecking my room whilst I'm asleep.'

Clearly Manfred still didn't trust him. 'Oh,' Charlie replied in a small voice. A moment later he added a 'good night, Manfred', but Manfred was already asleep.

Charlie closed his eyes and, with a surprising ease, slipped into the world of dreams.

* * *

End of Chapter Nine!

Whoo, two chapters in one evening! Brill~!

My writing style is pretty slow when I'm doing Romance (or any genre for that matter. It's just generally slow..) but there will definitely be some Manfred/Charlie stuff in the next few chapters. I just don't like to rush things for fear of killing the realism.

Anyway, I'd love to hear what you think so please review!

~WfCP x


	10. Black Silk

Hello there dear readers,

**title: **The Truth  
**author's notes:** Some more smut~! I thought it was about time. The last couple of chapters have been a bit devoid of it, nay?

Enjoy!

* * *

Black Silk

* * *

Charlie awoke lazily to the sound of birds twittering fitfully outside the window and when he blinked his eyes open the sun streamed in. This didn't set him on edge, because now it was March the sun had just about risen by the time the students had to be up and down to breakfast. What did set him on edge was the window itself. Or windows themselves, even, for there were several placed in the wall, joined together to create one long line of black-framed glass. This was not the boys' dormitory.

Instead of panicking, Charlie took it in his stride. Looking to his right, where he now identified a source of heat, he momentarily started at seeing that it was Manfred, but then relaxed. Of course. Their agreement last night. It had worked! Charlie grinned; he had been able to sleep well again.

Manfred appeared to still be asleep so Charlie turned on his side to observe his cousin. The arm that had been lying over Charlie's chest now moved subconsciously to his back. Without his eyes open Manfred looked deceptively harmless, even though Charlie knew that the head boy had no power over him as far as hypnotism was concerned even when he was awake. But the stress of eighteen years living under the harsh rule of his father had taken toll; there were already faint lines etched into the young man's forehead and his lips naturally curved downwards at the sides through habit. Charlie couldn't help feeling sorry for him.

Reaching a tentative hand forward, the younger boy lightly touched Manfred's hair. It always seemed to look greasy, but Charlie was surprised to find that it felt normal. Perhaps the shine was just a natural one. Or maybe Manfred used too much conditioner. Charlie had to admit that he wasn't very good with hair products.

Something subtly changed in the young man's face and Charlie realised that he was waking up. He quickly withdrew his hand and placed it on the thin strip of mattress between them. Manfred's fingers twitched on Charlie's back and then his eyes opened a slit, glaring at the younger boy. Realisation dawned and Manfred closed his eyes again and rolled onto his back, right hand slipping off of Charlie completely.

'Manfred,' Charlie whispered softly, moving a bit closer and glancing at the window again. He was glad that he hadn't received as violent a reaction as last time from the older boy. 'What time is it?'

'Time to shut up, Bone.' The words were too sleepy to be insulting.

Charlie dithered. What would Fidelio think if he woke up to find the bed next to his empty? What excuse could he give if he was late to class? Worse still, what would he do if he missed breakfast?

Manfred opened one eye to gaze at Charlie, trying to guess what he was thinking. 'Come back to sleep,' he finally demanded, reaching out to pull Charlie on top of him. A note of surprise escaping him, Charlie found himself sprawled half-on, half-off Manfred's silk-covered chest. The older boy chuckled faintly and wrapped an arm around Charlie to keep him there, eyes closed again.

Charlie shifted to get more comfortable and then resigned himself to staying in the bed. He couldn't sleep though now he had woken and, bored, he fingered the silk of Manfred's top. The head boy's pyjamas matched the bedsheets in both feel and colour. Charlie's were just blue, striped cotton, but then the Bloors were much, much richer than the Bones.

With a barely audible sigh Charlie began to trace patterns in the silk, eyes following his left index finger and the trails it left behind it. It was almost fun, and he forgot that Manfred's chest was just below the flimsy material. The head boy's breathing changed, became shallower.

The arm holding Charlie in place slid across his back so that Manfred's left hand could make his own patterns in the blue fabric. These were not so aimless. They were letters; D, O, N, T, S, T, O, P.

Charlie paused to concentrate on what Manfred was writing, and then obediently continued to run his finger over the sleek fabric. As an experiment, he tried using all the fingers of his left hand to stroke the older boy's side, and pressed harder than before. Manfred's heartbeat quickened, and because Charlie was draped over his cousin's chest he could feel the acceleration. He blushed and stilled his hand.

Protesting with a soft note, Manfred fisted his hand into the back of Charlie's pyjamas and hauled him up so that their faces were level. Charlie couldn't help being impressed; Manfred's arms, whilst skinny, were deceptively strong. The younger boy quickly placed his hands on the head boy's shoulders though to balance himself.

Even half-lidded, Manfred's eyes were intense. Charlie swallowed and found himself moving nearer. This close, he could see that there was something different about the black orbs; thin, silvery lines flamed around the pupil as usual but their circumference was wider than normal. A hand slipped into his untameable mop of hair and Charlie felt himself descend much quicker. Even though he was expecting it, he was still unprepared when their lips met.

Physically remembering their last kiss, Charlie's lips moved against the soft flesh beneath him, eyes closing, and he flushed at the friction. His fingers dug into Manfred's shoulder blades as a tongue pressed against his lips, and he shyly let it through.

Before he really knew how, Charlie was moaning quietly and Manfred had rolled them over so he was on top, his weight pressing Charlie down as his hands roamed possessively. Arching up to press their bodies flush together, Charlie's hands fumbled with the head boy's hair-tie, tugging the black strands free. Manfred pulled a face at this gesture and grunted, but he let it pass and ducked his head down to Charlie's neck as the younger boy ran his fingers through the shoulder-length locks. He'd never seen Manfred with his hair down before.

Sucking at Charlie's pulse point, Manfred undid the top button of his cousin's pyjama top and slid his hands down to the next one as the hands in his hair encouraged his lips back up to the young, open mouth. The kiss was clumsy because he was focusing on unbuttoning but it elicited an appreciative noise all the same. Manfred wondered if he had enough patience to deal with buttons, but just as he was about to tear at the fabric something interrupted him.

Three short, loud bangs. They both froze as their minds hazily traced the origin of the noise to the old wooden door. Another three, smart raps followed and, tongues abruptly separated, their horrified eyes sought each other out. Then Manfred swore, more colourfully than Charlie had expected.

'Manfred!' Dr Bloor's booming voice rang out. 'Manfred, are you in there?'

Still muttering violent curses under his breath, as if it would help somehow, Manfred pinned a frozen Charlie to the mattress with one hand whilst he wiped his mouth with the other and yanked the sheets further up the bed to cover the younger boy.

'Do you know what time it is, boy?' Dr Bloor continued angrily, and then the handle began to turn. Manfred's swearing ceased very quickly as his mouth turned dry. It was a lucky coincidence that he was the one nearest the door, so that when he rolled over to face the ancient oak and propped himself up on one elbow he effectively hid Charlie from sight. But his cheeks were still flushed and his hair a mess.

Manfred's dad entered the room, his face portraying the surprise he felt at the door being unlocked. He would have tried it sooner, had he known.

'Father!' Manfred forced out, trying to keep his breathing as normal as possible. It was not an easy thing to do.

'You're still in _bed_!' Dr Bloor fumed. 'Do you have any idea what _time_ it is, Manfred?'

Manfred's eyes flicked nervously to the windows, brain whirring fitfully as it attempted to find a plausible escuse. 'S-sorry,' he managed, voice still breathless. He took a few deep breaths as his father's rant continued.

'And just look at you! You're a mess, Manfred, a _mess_. People noticed your absence this morning and I had to say you were ill. _Ill. _Like some weak little _thing. _How could you be so irresponsible? You're a disgrace, that's what you are.'

'I'm sorry, father,' Manfred replied meekly. He wanted to shout at him, to remind him that he had never slept in like this before, never been late due to unrestrained slumber before, but he knew that shouting back never worked. He had been able to out-stare his father up until recently, but now his power was waning and he didn't want his dad to find out. So he took the rebuke. 'I haven't been sleeping well recently, so I tried sleeping pills. I didn't realise they'd be so strong.'

Dr Bloor glared at him, but didn't shout any more. Manfred knew what to say from experience with his father, and luckily being in drama had given him practice at lying through his teeth to a high standard. The headmaster sneered at his son instead; 'It's pathetic that you need to resort to pills. Sort yourself out. I do _not_ want a repeat of this.' He paused for effect, then arched an eyebrow. 'Am I understood, Manfred?'

Holding his father's gaze steadily, Manfred nodded. 'Yes, father.'

With a haughty look, the headmaster turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, leaving the door open. Swiftly, Manfred exited the bed and hastened to shut the door, fumbling with the key to lock it. Then, shaking with relief, he sat down on the floor and rested his back against the aged wood.

Charlie's dishevelled head poked out of the black sheets and for a minute he just lay there, watching his cousin shivering. Then he forced himself to move, suitably recovered from the shock of being interrupted. Needless to say his arousal had fled due to his fear, and Manfred's appeared to have done the same.

Sitting up and re-buttoning his top, Charlie slipped out of the bed and then remembered his slippers. It was a small miracle that Dr Bloor hadn't spotted them as they were placed next to the bed and easily within sight from the door. Another wave of relief washed through him as he pulled them on and shuffled over to the door. Manfred gave him a quick glance and then hugged himself, digging his fingers into his upper-arms to stop himself from trembling. It was humiliating, to be shouted at by his father in 'public'.

Guessing that Manfred was annoyed at how pathetic he looked, Charlie wasn't sure what to do. He looked away from the head boy, awkwardly standing nearby, and after another couple of minutes he heard the older boy stand up.

'You'd better go,' Manfred murmured. Charlie couldn't tell whether there was regret in the tone, although he realised that he was searching for it.

'OK.' He wanted to know what time it was, where he was supposed to go, but then he remembered that he'd left his watch by his bed and since he'd have to change clothes before going anywhere else he could check the time when he got back to the dormitory.

Manfred unlocked the door and drifted away, but then stopped, frowned. 'Wait. You'll need a note.'

Charlie obediently hesitated in the doorway as Manfred briskly walked to his desk and scribbled something on a small piece of paper. When he turned around he had more purpose in him and looked a bit brighter, more full of self-possession than before. Charlie was glad on his behalf and braved a timid smile as he took the paper.

Manfred's lips twitched awkwardly in reply, and then Charlie turned around and hurried away from the West wing.

* * *

End of Chapter Ten!

Ehe, so what did you think? Sorry I had Dr Bloor interrupt it, I'm such a tease..

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. It's great to hear that you're enjoying it!

~WfCP x


	11. Infirmary

Hello there dear readers,

**title: **The Truth  
**author's notes:** I've been poactive since it's the weekend. School saps my time though, so chapters may not be as frequent during the weekdays.

Enjoy!

* * *

Infirmary

* * *

To his relief, Charlie reached his dormitory without seeing anyone who could tell him off. Checking his watch, he found that it was almost break - so instead of trying to attend his lesson late he took a shower and got dressed, sitting down on his bed until the bell rang. His pyjamas smelt of the musky cologne Manfred wore and he hoped that this wouldn't be obvious to the other boys in his dorm. Not that smelling Charlie's pyjamas was a particular habit of any of his room-mates, luckily!

At the bell, Charlie raced down from the upper levels of the school and joined the mass of children in the hall. He kept his head down, not wanting to receive a telling off from anyone about missing the morning, and luckily he made it out onto the field without confrontation.

Once on the green grass though he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder and jumped in shock, swiveling quickly to see Lysander. Tancred, beside his friend, laughed at Charlie's shocked face and Lysander couldn't help smiling too.

'Where've you been, Charlie?' Tancred wondered, and then they heard running feet. Fidelio and Olivia and Emma appeared, with Gabriel following a bit behind.

'Charlie!' Fidelio called. 'You're still here! Thought they'd sent you home or something.'

'Or locked you in the tower,' Olivia added, screwing her face up at the thought.

'No, no,' Charlie assured them. 'I was just…just…' He searched blindly for an answer, and was glad when Emma piped up;

'Were you ill, Charlie? You did look bad yesterday.'

'Yes!' Charlie grinned at Emma, then forced himself to look a bit more ill. 'Yes I was ill and I had to sleep in the infirmary. Awful place.' He pulled a face and laughed and some of the tension was broken.

'Do you think it has something to do with you falling down the stairs?' Gabriel wondered, and with a start Charlie remembered his sleepwalking and bruised face. Why hadn't Manfred said anything about it yesterday? He must have noticed!

'Uh,' Charlie replied, putting a tentative hand to his eye. It wasn't as sore as before, but without a mirror he couldn't see how bad it actually was. 'Yeah, probably. I don't know how long I was asleep there for, and you can catch a cold from sleeping on the floor.'

'But you're feeling better now?' Fidelio pressed.

Charlie shrugged. 'Better,' he agreed. 'Still not great.' That was the best thing to say, he reasoned. It meant that if Manfred whisked him away again they'd just attribute it to him still being ill. Not that Charlie was sure that the older boy would want to sleep with him again; Dr Bloor walking in on them had been a big shock and a repeat was the last thing either of them wanted.

The bell went to signify the end of break and they all filed back in, back to lessons.

...

The atmosphere in the King's room was dense and heavy to Charlie. He was finding it rather hard to breathe, although the rest of the endowed seemed to be doing fine. Perhaps this was something to do with the intense eyes that hadn't really left Charlie since Manfred had entered the room. Swallowing thickly, the young Bone tried to focus on his work, but his hand shook and his pen fell to the floor, clattering loudly in the enveloping silence. Everyone jumped.

'Bone!' Manfred barked. 'Control yourself!'

Charlie dived under the table after his pen eagerly, relieved to be escaping from those eyes. He gasped in air as quietly as possible and then re-emerged, stared intently at his work. But still the numbers wouldn't go in. Was Manfred even working? He didn't appear to be looking at any of his books, since he was watching Charlie so keenly.

Didn't anyone find this suspicious? Charlie began to worry, and kept sneaking glances at the other endowed to see if they'd noticed. Some of them gave him sympathetic glances, but there was no suspicion.

At the end of homework time Manfred told Charlie rather tersely to wait, and received a glare from Lysander. Some of the papers swirled in a sudden breeze. 'Get out,' Manfred snarled at the spirit-summoner and storm-bringer. Charlie saw Lysander clench his fist, but luckily they left without a fight. Asa loped out last, and then the door was closed and Charlie was alone with the head boy.

'Manfred,' he started before the older boy could speak. 'Stop looking at me! The others are bound to suspect something!'

Manfred looked surprised at this perceptive worry. 'They think I'm angry with you, that's all,' he soothed. 'I often pick on you. It's no different.' He glided over to sit on the desk beside where Charlie was standing.

Charlie wanted to protest that it _was_ different, that Manfred's gaze had not been one of anger and that sooner or later the others would notice this, but instead he sighed and remained silent on the issue. That could wait for another time. 'You wanted to speak to me?'

'Mm.' Manfred eyed the younger boy thoughtfully, eyes raking down his body. Involuntarily Charlie blushed.

'Remember last week Olivia walked in on you interrogating me,' Charlie warned quietly.

'True.' Manfred reluctantly forced his eyes back up to Charlie's face. 'I wanted to make clear that this sleeping arrangement of ours is now permanent.'

Charlie, who had been expecting a very different ending to that statement, looked up in surprise. 'But your dad-' he started.

'I am aware,' Manfred bit, cutting him off. 'But that was because I didn't lock the door. Anyway, we slept too long this morning. I'm going to buy an alarm clock, and then we'll wake up in time for you to get back to your dorm before the others wake up.'

Charlie digested this information, then slowly nodded. 'Okay. So tonight…'

'Come to my room as soon as you can get away. Oh and you can use that note I gave you if Matron catches you. Yes?'

Charlie nodded. Yes, this could actually work. He'd just have to hope none of his room-mates woke up to find him going…or gone.

'Good boy,' Manfred smiled a little and lithely jumped off the desk. He reached out a hand to stroke Charlie's cheek, and then his fingers drifted towards the younger boy's mouth, tracing his lips. Charlie leant into the touch and, blinking, Manfred pulled back quickly, remembering that the door wasn't locked. He moved around the table to pick up his books which, as Charlie had guessed, weren't even open.

'See you tonight, Charlie,' Manfred smiled as he left the room.

...

'You sleeping here tonight then, Charlie?' Fidelio grinned as his friend slipped under the sheets of his own bed. Charlie started, looked at him in confusion, and then remembered that he'd told them he'd been in the infirmary the night before.

'Oh, of course, sorry.' Charlie looked embarrassed at having forgotten. For a moment he'd been worried that Fidelio had heard about Manfred and their sleeping agreement. 'I think so, though I might head to the infirmary if I get really ill again.'

'Surely it'd be better to stay here,' Fidelio frowned. 'The infirmary is a place that makes me feel more ill than better.'

'Yeah,' Charlie agreed. 'But if I'm puking everywhere then I don't want to wake you guys up.'

Fidelio pulled a face but conceded the point. 'Let's hope you don't feel worse then.'

'Yeah.'

The lights went out and Charlie waited, staring at the ceiling as he listened to the other boys' breathing become deeper and calmer. After another half an hour of listening to them sleeping, Charlie slipped out of bed and pulled on his slippers. He put on his night-gown this time for good measure, and padded as quietly as possible to the door.

Half way down the corridor though he became aware of someone following him. Alarmed, Charlie whipped around and saw a shadow dart closer to the wall. Whoever it was had a very small frame and Charlie didn't feel afraid of them anymore. He began to walk towards them and they retreated, but tripped and fell onto their bottom.

Charlie saw the boy's face and sighed. 'Billy. Why were you following me?'

'I wasn't following you,' Billy replied stubbornly.

'You clearly were.' Charlie frowned at him. 'Were you thinking of telling Manfred?' The idea was almost funny, considering that that was who Charlie was going to see, but then he realised that if he hadn't discovered Billy the boy might have followed him all the way to Manfred's room and told someone else. He couldn't trust Billy.

'Well where are you going anyway?' Billy asked, standing up. 'Bathroom is the other way.'

'I'm going to the infirmary,' Charlie said defiantly. 'Cause I'm feeling ill. If you don't want to catch anything you should go back to bed.'

Billy looked as if he was about to argue, but then he hesitated, wondered whether Charlie was actually telling the truth. The best thing about the bruises on his face, for Charlie, was that they really did make him look unwell. Then Billy looked over Charlie's shoulder, squeaked and scuttled back to the dorm. Turning with a sense of terrible foreboding, Charlie saw his aunt bearing down on him. He didn't have enough time to run.

'_Charlie_,' Lucretia Yewbeam gritted out the word in loathing, but she was quite obviously pleased that she had caught him. 'Detention for you this weekend!' She cackled, then pointed at the dormitory door when Charlie didn't move. 'Well? Get back to bed!'

'Er,' Charlie said, suddenly remembering the note Manfred had given him. He fumbled with the pocket on the left side of his pyjama shirt as his aunt glared fiercely at him. 'I've got a note,' he explained as he drew the paper out of his pocket and held it out.

Lucretia snatched it and peered at the writing, although she recognised it almost immediately as being Manfred's. She scanned the words and then handed it back with a 'hmph'.

'Better get on your way then. Doesn't do to keep him waiting.'

Taking the note back, Charlie sped away from his aunt as quickly as possible without running; she was the sort of person to actively search for a reason to punish you, and he didn't want to give her the advantage of time.

...

Manfred unlocked and opened the door as soon as Charlie tapped, and the younger boy slipped in quickly, afraid that Dr Bloor may walk by and see him. The door clicked behind him and then Charlie jumped because two hands slapped down onto his shoulders from behind.

Leaning down, Manfred muttered, 'What kept you? I was beginning to think that that musical genius had chained you to your bed or something.'

The idea of Fidelio chaining him to a bed made Charlie laugh a bit, and Manfred turned him around so they were facing each other. Since he was already leaning down, it wasn't hard for the head boy to catch Charlie's lips and he was pleased when the younger boy kissed back and wrapped his arms around Manfred's neck.

It was taking less and less time for them to start getting intimate with each other, and neither really had an excuse any more. Pulling back, Charlie looked up at Manfred shyly and then moved to sit on the bed. 'Billy was following me,' he answered Manfred's original question, 'and then Matron caught me.'

'You showed her my note?' Manfred inquired, walking over to his desk and scribbling on another sheet of paper. 'You'll need a new one. This should be re-usable.'

Charlie glanced at the florid writing, beautiful in an ancient, spidery way even when Manfred wasn't trying to be neat:

_As punishment, I have asked Charlie Bone to spend an hour of silent study under my supervision every evening this week. This may mean he is late for bed._  
_Manfred Bloor_

'Thanks,' Charlie said, slipping the note into his pocket. 'But what if matron sees me in the morning when I head back to my dorm?'

'Nah,' Manfred scoffed, blowing out the candles and undoing his dressing-gown. 'Lucretia doesn't stay up _all_ night on the prowl. By morning she'll have retired to bed.'

Kicking off his slippers, Charlie considered this gem of information. So if he ever needed to explore he should wake up early and go, not head out at midnight like he usually did.

'This also means that you can come here before your bed-time,' Manfred added smugly.

'But what about Fidelio and Gabriel and Billy? They'll notice I'm not there.'

'That note doesn't have to be exclusively for our little Yewbeam's eyes, does it?'

Lucretia was a tall woman, but belittling her with a patronising tone was amusing. Charlie grinned. 'I s'pose so.' He wondered if Fidelio would buy the lie. After all, he _was_ a genius.

Manfred sat down beside Charlie and tugged at the knot of his cousin's night-gown impatiently. Charlie jolted and then batted the hands away, 'I can do that!' He protested, getting off the bed and removing the gown, folding in on the floor next to his slippers. Chuckling, Manfred slipped under the sheets and moved over so Charlie would have space.

'Did you get an alarm clock?' Charlie wondered as he joined the head boy, not sure when the older boy would have had time.

'My father gave me one,' Manfred said, but at the mention of his father he seemed to clam up, so Charlie wisely said no more on the matter. 'Are you tired, Charlie?'

'A bit,' the younger boy replied, turning on his side to gaze at Manfred, who was staring at the ceiling.

'I'm not.' After having slept so well the day before, this wasn't surprising. After all Manfred didn't usually sleep much, and Monday night had countered out the lack of sleep over the weekend.

'What do you want to do then?' Charlie, who was more used to sleeping than his cousin was, nevertheless was open to suggestions. After-all, the excitement of sneaking through the school still sparked inside of him.

Manfred turned his head to the right to fix Charlie with his sharp, jet eyes. 'Well I did have something in mind…'

* * *

End of Chapter 11!

'...origami!' Haha, just kidding. ;P

Thanks for the reviews one and all!

~WfCP x


	12. Very Good

Hello there dear readers,

**title: **The Truth  
**author's notes:** THIS FICTION'S RATING HAS BEEN RAISED TO AN **M** (for you, sensatsushinobi!). So you can deduce that this chapter is quite smutty :P Also, as a warning, I am female. So, never having experienced a _male_ orgasm, I improvised based on my own female experience. ;)

Enjoy!

* * *

Very Good

* * *

Manfred left the words hanging, and Charlie felt his stomach flip briefly. The slow, keen path his cousin's orbs were making down his partially-covered body left the younger boy in no doubt as to exactly _what_ Manfred had in mind. He tried hard not to blush at the passionate gaze, but when the head boy rolled over to pin him to the bed Charlie flushed hotly and wriggled under the extra weight.

Gripping Charlie's wrists, Manfred brought the younger boy's hands up either side of his head before kissing him deeply. The human restraints reminded Charlie of the first time he had met his cousin, on a cold, dark day with sleet pouring down; Manfred had grabbed his wrists then as now, and Charlie had been scared of him. The memory of the fear only seemed to heighten his senses though, to remind him of how far they had come. He panted when the kiss broke, surprised to find himself already short of breath.

Trying something new, Manfred licked along Charlie's lower lip before nipping at it. Charlie inhaled sharply, flexed his fingers, whimpered. Eyelashes flickering, Charlie looked into Manfred's eyes with thinly veiled lust and remembered the sense of drowning he had experienced when Manfred had hypnotised him that once, more than a year ago. He almost lost himself again, but then the older boy's tongue was in his mouth and he made a noise in the back of his throat, surging up to meet the invasion with sufficient fervour to make Manfred moan appreciatively.

Their breathing was laboured when Manfred pulled back, letting Charlie's hands go in favour of unbuttoning the blue-striped top as he had tried to do that morning. Charlie moved to help him and so Manfred sat up, leaving the younger boy to sort his clothes out as he ripped at his own silk top. Both items were soon discarded.

Manfred slipped lower down his cousin, pressed Charlie's hands into the mattress again as he licked a stripe up the trembling chest beneath him. Charlie could feel his heart beating in an erratic manner almost frightening in its strength; he couldn't remember ever having these physical symptoms before, not even when terror had struck, and he wondered, briefly, if his body could cope. Then a heated breath fanned his right nipple and his mind was jerked elsewhere.

Every now and again Charlie would emit small, wordless noises without meaning to, causing Manfred's fingers to twitch against his own and the head boy's breath to hitch.

Nipples thoroughly teased to hardness, Charlie felt Manfred's tongue move lower, down to his stomach, around his belly button. A particularly violent throb from his nether-regions reminded Charlie that his arousal was hard-pressed to develop any further and he half-moaned, arching up against his cousin impatiently. Despite this, Charlie was apprehensive about what was to come next; how far was Manfred intending on going? Did men really have sex how he'd heard they did? What did an orgasm _feel_ like?

The head boy's thumbs stroked over Charlie's wrists infuriatingly lightly before his hands withdrew altogether, leaving the sensitive skin tingling, and ran down the younger boy's sides to hook under the trouser fabric and tug. Charlie shifted his hips up to aid his disrobement, his need overcoming his embarrassment; he knew that, due to his age, he would be a lot smaller in that particular department than his partner. But Manfred made no comment.

Heart still beating ridiculously fast, Charlie found that the amount of blood rushing around his body was making his head go funny. He felt dizzy, although he was lying down, and disorientated.

Manfred's tongue had moved to the place that needed it most now and a wave of _something_ washed through Charlie. He was incapable of speech or even, really, coherent thought as his hips bucked up unbidden and his toes clenched. Charlie's eyes were already closed, breath coming in short, audible gasps, and his muscles were clenching and unclenching without his command. Focusing on the pleasure, he was barely aware of the world around him, but then his member was completely encased in a tight, wet heat and he let himself go completely.

For a split second he felt as if he was falling; that thrill of a feeling that seems both to be in your stomach and your mind to warn you of a loss of control. And then he was back, mind still mixed-up, and aware that his hips had jerked up, that he was ejaculating, that his mouth was open but his breath was held.

With these realisations his hips fell back down onto the mattress and he exhaled simultaneously. A shaky breath in, as much air as he could whilst his heart was still trying to ram a hole in his chest, and then he was gasping again. And shivering, like a flag caught in a storm.

The world came flooding back when he opened his eyes and with it a cold kind of euphoria that made him want to grin and laugh and laugh. But with the reality of the room in darkness came the reminder of the warmth pressed against his side, the hand stroking down his quivering chest, and his mirth fled to be replaced with a guilty concern. Still out of breath, Charlie forced himself to turn onto his left side, look up at Manfred with searching eyes.

'Y-you-' he tried to say, but gave up. He glanced pointedly down at his cousin's pyjama bottoms instead, stretched around the bulge at the front. Manfred eyed him silently, waiting for him to make the first move - and this surprised Charlie, because it showed a willingness to go unattended if Charlie chose to ignore the need. But it was a firm policy drummed into the Bone boy by his mother to return a favour, and the thought of not aiding Manfred never seriously crossed Charlie's mind.

Recovered enough now to move, Charlie reached out a shivering hand to touch Manfred's bare shoulder, running it down past his collarbone to rest on his chest. A thin line of dark hair started directly below this point, creating a straight line that disappeared, tantalisingly, under the elasticated silk waist-band. As Charlie traced it he was aware that Manfred's coal-black stare remained fixed on his face, the intensity making his cheeks heat up again. Wishing to stay in control, Charlie bit his lip.

Manfred made a noise that was a mixture of a whimper and a growl at that, and then Charlie found himself pushed onto his back again, Manfred rubbing fiercely against him. Winded due to the added weight, Charlie struggled for breath, his hands moving onto Manfred's back and into the black hair, still loosely tied. He wriggled under the writhing mass above him, unsure how he was supposed to help when he was almost immobile below, but this movement made the head boy growl again, bury his face deeper into the crook of Charlie's neck and left shoulder.

Charlie could feel his cousin's heated breath against his pulse-point and it allowed him to determine the head boy's heart-rate whilst also serving to increase his own, if marginally. So when he arched up into the slow grinding and Manfred moaned, pressed harder and gave an involuntary thrust, Charlie could feel the older boy's heartbeat quicken.

Although he remembered the disgruntled reaction to this earlier, Charlie nevertheless couldn't resist pulling at the purple hair tie and freeing the shoulder-length black hair. Manfred appeared to be too far gone to even realise, so Charlie grinned and ran a hand through the locks, then fisted his fingers in the strands as Manfred bit at his neck with unexpected force. The hooded black eyes rose to give Charlie an annoyed glare; apparently Manfred wasn't as oblivious as Charlie had first thought.

Charlie closed his eyes to avoid the stare and pulled Manfred down for an apologetic kiss, felt the head boy reluctantly relax against his tongue's administrations. Then Manfred's face pressed itself against Charlie's neck again as he shifted up to pull his own pyjama bottoms down and take himself in hand. For a moment Charlie felt disappointed and spurned by this, but he soon realised that he wouldn't have had much of an idea as to what to do; best that Manfred, who was clearly desperate, sort himself out for now.

Lying uselessly underneath his masturbating cousin, Charlie briefly considered how he felt. His orgasm had left him a bit tired, and it was weird to think that Manfred was still aroused; but the scorching breath on his neck and the frantic, fervid thrusting left him in no doubt of this. It was too real to be anything but, but Charlie couldn't help thinking that the situation was surreal. He ran his hands over Manfred's back, revelling in the feel of the subtle muscles rippling, the skin burning up under his fingertips.

And then Manfred muffled a cry against Charlie's skin and he reached his climax, hips jerking involuntarily a few more times. He collapsed on Charlie completely, and the younger boy felt a warm, sticky mixture smear his chest. They lay, listening to the sound of their breathing, for some time. Then Manfred gave a low moan and rolled off of Charlie, standing shakily beside the bed.

Charlie was surprised at how light he felt without Manfred on top of him; he'd begun to get used to the head boy's weight. Then the soft footfalls padded back over to him and a couple of white tissues landed on his chest. Glancing at his cousin, Charlie realised that he was supposed to clean himself with the material, and so pushed himself into a half-sitting position and wiped away the white liquid from his chest; Manfred's. His own member was surprisingly free from any mess.

Manfred laughed breathlessly as he saw Charlie looking curiously at his already-clean penis. 'Silly,' he managed, still short of breath; 'I already…cleaned that.' He took Charlie's tissues from him and shuffled over to his desk again, throwing the used material into the bin there.

Charlie flushed as he realised what Manfred meant; he must have swallowed Charlie's sperm and licked the younger boy clean whilst Charlie was still too disorientated to really notice. Then Charlie had kissed him; did that mean he'd tasted himself without knowing it? Everything had been too heady and lust-driven at the time to stop and think.

A draft of cold air ghosted across Charlie's bare arm and chest, and the younger boy realised that the window had just been opened. The cold, fresh air contrasted greatly with that inside that room, and Charlie noticed how much the air around him smelt of sex; musky and hormone-ridden. Biting his lip again, but gently this time, Charlie pulled his pyjama bottoms up and retrieved his top, although he left it unbuttoned as he was still warm.

Manfred left the window open a notch as he returned to the bed and left his pyjama top on the floor. Charlie had shifted up to provide space for him, so it was easy for the older boy to sink onto the mattress and lie down. Leaving the sheets bunched up at the bottom of the bed, too hot still to be covered, Manfred turned on his side to lazily regard Charlie.

'Well?' He asked, smirking. Charlie tilted his head questioningly so Manfred elaborated; 'Was it a good idea, what I had in mind?'

Charlie snorted softly and smiled at his cousin. 'Very good,' he agreed shyly. Then he yawned.

'Yes,' Manfred decided. 'I'm tired too.' He shuffled closer, pressed himself up against Charlie's side again and wrapped and arm around his chest.

Charlie shifted a little, then fell still, comfortable. But he couldn't resist murmuring, 'I'm not going to wreck your room, you know.'

'I know,' Manfred chuckled, but his arm stayed where it was.

* * *

End of Chapter Twelve!

Right people;  
First of all: Yay! I wrote an M rated chapter for these two! Quite an achievement, I believe.  
Secondly: I feel like I've come to a bit of a dead end here. I can't see where this story is going or where it could end. I mean, technically I _could_ end it here, leaving the loose threads - such as how they manage to keep their relationship hidden or whatever happened to Manfred's three more punishments (!) - up to your imagination.  
Metaphorically I have just ridden a ride at a themepark, and it has reached the end. I have the choice of getting off and trying a new ride (a new story), going home (focusing on my studies) or paying (in time and effort) and taking the ride again (continuing with this fiction).  
The problem with riding again is that the scenery is the same. The ride is the same. The story is the same. It'll have different things in the chapters, obviously, but I'll feel as if I'm just travelling in circles. Charlie lying to his friends. Sleeping with Manfred. Struggling with his thoughts. Lying to his friends. Sleeping with...well you get the picture, yes? There's only so much I can do with a fiction of this type, and there is much less enjoyment in it for me.  
So I'd like your thoughts on this.  
Chances are if I continue then I'll write the chapters slower, or at least more erratically. I won't be able to promise fast releases (er, no smutty pun intended there, sorry)!

Anyway please review! It'd be great to hear what you think; did I keep them in character?

~WfCP x


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